


A Very Merry Medici Christmas

by Gilbird14



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22197589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilbird14/pseuds/Gilbird14
Summary: Francesco disliked Christmas, because you are supposed to be happy and smiley all the time for no apparent reason, but, most importantly, because this time of the year meant being dragged to numerous Christmas parties hosted by the Medici family.
Relationships: Lorenzo "Il Magnifico" de' Medici/Francesco de' Pazzi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 51





	1. Candy Cane Galore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!
> 
> I know Christmas is supposed to be over, but I was extremely busy during the holidays and I couldn't write a thing. Because of that, you are getting this delayed Christmas fic now. I also had to split the story in several chapters that I will update as soon as possible!! If I hadn't done that, I would be posting this fic on April or so. Bonus info: this is my first multichap ever I'm equally excited and frightened lol.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it very much!

Christmas was the Medici family's favourite holiday season of all and it showed. They threw at least two big parties a week throughout all December, the biggest one being on Christmas' Eve. Friends and relatives of the Medici were invited to catch up and have fun during the festivities. However, Christmas Day and Santo Stefano were reserved for the Medici family members only. However, Francesco was invited as well, despite not being a Medici. He guessed it was because they didn't want to leave him alone, since Guglielmo was a Medici-in-law. Francesco appreciated the gesture, even though he wasn't much of a Christmas person himself. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He had been once, when he was a little kid. But, weren't we all at that age? Back then, he and Guglielmo had celebrated Christmas with their parents. The atmosphere of the Pazzi household was warm and full of love. They were truly happy only by being the four of them together. After the festivities, their parents took them to play with their neighbours who also had little children, the Medici. That was how they first met a long time ago. With time, they became friends who liked to play together with their new toys. However, everything changed when Francesco's and Guglielmo's parents died and their uncle took them away. Then, Christmas were never the same. They were gloomy, but most importantly, they were absolutely tense. Both brothers missed their parents especially in this time of the year, but what Francesco missed the most was the sensation of belonging. He didn't feel like his uncle's house was his home. Jacopo was always very harsh towards them and he didn't love them as much as he claimed or if he ever did to begin with. Then, there was the fact that Jacopo didn't do anything out of the ordinary for Christmas, just a "more special" lunch on Christmas Day. All of these facts turned Francesco into a person who disliked Christmas. He couldn't understand why people liked pretending to be happy, even when they weren't, for more than a whole month. I didn't make any sense.  
  
On the contrary, the Medici was the family who celebrated Christmas the most in Florence. This meant that Francesco got dragged into a lot of parties 'unwillingly'. There was always something interesting happening in them, so at least he had something to look forward to, especially if it was Giuliano embarrassing himself in front of others. Francesco was always ready to enjoy seeing Giuliano make a fool of himself. It was his favourite sport.  
  
This year Francesco had missed at least three parties because of the massive amount of work at the bank. If it wasn't as if he was dying to go to any of them, but there was something that bugged him about not attending that he couldn't exactly place. It wasn't as if Guglielmo or Lorenzo wouldn't understand his situation. Both the Pazzi and the Medici were families of bankers. They knew that in lots of occasions business came before pleasure. However, Francesco couldn't shake that feeling despite all his efforts. It bothered him. On the other hand, he was glad he had missed Caroloke Night. If he had gone to the party, he would have been pressured to sing something in front of everyone again. The year before, he had been dragged to the stage by Lorenzo and Giuliano, who only wanted to see him suffer, to sing Last Christmas with them. It had been utterly embarrassing. At least, most of the guests were drunk enough so that there was a chance that they would forget about it.  
  
As if he was speaking of the Devil, Francesco's phone buzzed and its screen lit up. Lorenzo had sent him a message. He left his economic plans unattended for a moment to read it.  
  
"Francesco! I need to talk to you. Tell me you can come tonight to the party."  
  
Francesco sighed. He didn't know what Lorenzo wanted to tell him, but he was sure it wouldn't be good for him. He had a bad feeling about this, but typed his response anyway.  
  
"Can't you come to my office instead? I have a lot of work to do."  
  
Lorenzo answered almost immediately.  
  
"You know I have to get everything ready for tonight. I need to talk to you in person, but I won't have enough time to go to your office :("  
  
Francesco was typing again when he received a selfie of Lorenzo pouting and making his puppy eyes. He rolled his eyes internally. Francesco hated that Lorenzo used that face against him, because it eventually worked. The Medici knew perfectly what he was doing. Lorenzo usually used it in person because it had the maximum effect, but he had recently started to text it too. Francesco wouldn't admit he had succumbed to Lorenzo's puppy eyes once again, but he had.  
  
"I see what I can do. I make no promises though."  
  
When he had sent his message he locked his phone again and went back to work. Scarce seconds later, his phone buzzed again. He didn't have to look at it to know that it was Lorenzo. He checked the notification and marked Lorenzo's message as read.  
  
"Yay!! See you tonight! :)"  
  
Francesco didn't need to answer to it, so he wouldn't. He also cursed himself for letting Lorenzo discover that his puppy eyes somehow worked on him. Francesco shook lightly his head. Enough distractions. He had a long afternoon full of economic plans to make and he had to get to it.  
  
His phone buzzed again sometime after. He thought it would be Lorenzo again, but when he checked it. He saw that it was his brother reminding him to leave the bank since it was past 9 pm. Francesco was late, very late in fact. He usually didn't stop working until the task at hand was finished. Because of that, he often lost track of time like right now. Francesco knew that nobody would be mad at him for arriving almost two hours late, because they could understand his situation. However, sometimes he wondered if Jacopo's words, which he had drilled in the back of his mind despite his efforts of removing them, were true. The Medici did not care about him. They only invited him with the excuse of being Guglielmo's brother to break the Pazzi family apart. No. That was not true. His uncle only lied for his own benefit. Jacopo's manipulations didn't work on him anymore. Francesco shook his head violently as he tried to dissipate the negative thoughts from his head. The Medici treated him more like family than Jacopo, his own blood, ever did.  
  
After making sure everything was properly closed and turned off, Francesco left the Pazzi bank. He would drive directly to the Medici summer household, because a parking lot was always available for him there. He congratulated himself mentally for remembering to bring his car to work. It would save him form the cold of the streets. His hands always got extremely cold and nothing he had tried had worked to prevent it. So, not having to walk anywhere was a bonus and driving with warm hands was also great news.  
  
The Medici liked to celebrate their big parties in their summer residence because it was bigger than Lucrezia's house in Florence. It also allowed them to play music until sunrise without complaints from the neighbours, because it was pretty isolated. All their friends and relatives could park outside without crowding the road. However, Francesco had the privilege of having his own spot in the garage. The house wasn't far from the city, so if anyone had to go back anytime they could be there in half an hour.  
  
Since Francesco had the keys to the house, he didn't have to hope someone heard him ring the front door bell. One time he had to phone Lucrezia de Medici to ask her to open the front door. It had been embarrassing, but Lorenzo, Guglielmo and Bianca weren't answering their respective phones and calling Giuliano wasn't an option. Francesco would prefer to stay on his car rather than ask the younger Medici for help. He could picture Giuliano's mocking face and how he would tease him endlessly. So, yeah, the only viable candidate left was Lucrezia. Even though she apologized she felt sorry for Francesco, so she promised to never let that happen again. The next day Francesco received a copy of all the keys of the Medici summer house and their house in Florence. Since then, despite his occasional deep-rooted doubts about the Medici, he felt like Lucrezia treated him like he was another son of hers.  
  
Francesco knew the party was in the enormous dance hall, but in the case he didn't, he would only need to follow the loud music to its source to find the party. When he finally opened the big double door that lead to the dance hall, he was greeted with a candy cane decoration theme. There were balloons shaped like candy canes floating around the room, white and red striped garlands decorated the walls along with green and white ones, the curtains and the tablecloths also had candy cane patterns. The tables had actual candy canes in different sizes and flavours for the guests to eat. Even the canapés had the cane shape. In Francesco's opinion, it was a monstrosity for his eyes. It was too much for him, but the Medici were like this and there was no changing that.  
  
The first to notice him was Sandro, who went directly to him to introduce him to the party. Francesco didn't fail to notice that the man was wearing a white shirt stamped with red candy canes. It was ridiculous. Sandro was supposed to have good taste. Francesco guessed he had been wrong this whole time.  
  
"Hey, Francesco! I'm glad you could finally make it," Sandro said when he was in front of him.  
  


"I was held up at work," Francesco answered disinterested.  
  


"Let me show you around," Sandro said putting and arm on Francesco's shoulder and pushing him forward.  
  
Francesco cursed internally. He didn't want to walk with Sandro around the dance hall. He would start talking about his work, how fulfilling it was and so on. Maybe he was doing that now, but he couldn't care less. Furthermore, because of the loud music playing in the room, he would need to make an extra effort to listen to him. Francesco wasn't willing to make that extra work. Instead, he was looking at the crowd and the hideous decorations, while faking interest in whatever Sandro was saying. There were people he hadn't seen in his life and others that rang a bell, but he couldn't exactly name them. Regarding the decorations, he had failed to notice several painted candy canes hanging next to the balcony windows. Francesco bet that Sandro had painted them, but he wasn't going to ask for confirmation. He wasn't going to risk getting into another one of Sandro's endless talks. He had made that mistake once and he would not make it again.  
  
Then, out of the blue a blur of red and white came running towards them. Francesco hadn't recognised the person at first, but it was unmistakably Lorenzo. Only him could pull off an absolutely ugly outfit and look good in it. He blamed that last thought on the hyper stimulation of his brain due to the huge amount of bright colours in the room. Also, Lorenzo's clothes made a terrible combo: red trousers, darker red shoes and white shirt combined with red and white striped suspenders and a bow tie of the same pattern. He also had two actual candy canes coming out of his shirt pocket. One was red and the other one was green. However, the worst part of all was his smile. He was actually proud of his dressing choice. Francesco couldn't understand the duality of this man. Lorenzo could dress normally or even fashionably when needed, but when it came to Christmas he seemed to lose that precious ability.  
  
"Francesco!! You are finally here!" Lorenzo exclaimed without loosing his smile. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come. I'm so glad you made it!"  
  
"I told you I would try," Francesco answered still trying to figure out Lorenzo's outfit.  
  
"Oh," Lorenzo added surprised. "You didn't bring anything candy cane themed with you. Let me fix that." He added as he searched for something in his pocket.  
  
"It is not necessary..." Francesco trying to convince Lorenzo, but he cut him off.  
  
"Of course it is! It's the party's dress code," Now, that Lorenzo had said it, Francesco realised that all the guests wore hideous candy-cane-patterned clothes similar to Sandro's or accessories resembling the infamous candy. "It isn't called Candy Cane Galore for nothing," Lorenzo pulled out a green and white handkerchief of his pocket. "Let me just..."  
  
Lorenzo took a step closer entering Francesco's personal space. He carefully put the striped cloth inside the pocket of Francesco's dress jacket. He brushed his fingers repeatedly against the remaining visible part of the handkerchief in order to smooth it and make it look good. Then, Lorenzo grabbed the green candy cane from his own shirt and he placed it inside Francesco's pocket too. Because of the cloth behind it, the sugary treat didn't remain perfectly straight. So, Lorenzo spent several seconds to leave it the way he envisioned.  
  
"I almost have it," Lorenzo said with his full attention on the sweet decoration. "Give me a second."  
  
Francesco noticed Lorenzo's tongue was touching slightly his upper lip. Lorenzo always did that when he was deeply concentrated on something. Following this observation, Francesco became very aware of the closeness between them. He blushed lightly and cursed himself internally for that. The Medici were more affectionate and touchy than what he would have liked, specially Lorenzo. He knew that well, so there was no apparent reason to his little reaction. At least, he hoped that the light red on his cheeks would go unnoticed with all the red on the dance room.  
  
"There! Much better," Lorenzo said as he patted Francesco's pocket, which was exactly on top of his heart.  
  
"Yeah guys, don't mind me. It isn't as if I was here or anything..." Sandro interrupted their exchange. "I'm too sober for this. I'm getting a drink. Not that you will miss me or anything..." He said as he left the two boys looking confused at each other.  
  
"What has gotten into him?" Lorenzo asked Francesco as he took a step back discreetly.  
  
"I have no idea..." Francesco answered honestly as he watched the artist go.  
  
"Oh, right!" Lorenzo said after a few seconds from Sandro's departure. "I almost forgot. Come with me, I need you to tell you something," Lorenzo began to walk but he soon saw that Francesco was on the same spot, which forced him to add a clarification "in private."  
  
"Why? Why can't you tell me here?" Francesco asked. Lorenzo hadn't mentioned in his text that whatever he needed to tell him would be this kind of important.  
  
"It's a secret!" Lorenzo smiled devilishly. Did he wink too? "C'mon, follow me."  
  
Francesco knew he would regret agreeing to listen to Lorenzo. It was the usual outcome, but this time he feared it would be worse. Despite that, he followed him upstairs without questioning him further. There, the music was still pretty loud, but they didn't have to yell or be in each other's personal space anymore if they wanted to talk. Francesco was internally grateful for that. He thought they would stop in the middle of the corridor to finally speak, given they were far away from any other guest, but they didn't. Instead, Lorenzo lead him to his room. For some reason, the music was much quieter inside it, which was a relief for Francesco's ears. Lorenzo closed the door carefully behind them, leaving them alone in the dark room silvery illuminated by the moonlight.  
  
"Now, what is all this secrecy about?" Francesco asked confused, his eyes still adjusting to the dim light.  
  
"I need your help, Francesco," Lorenzo answered honestly. It almost sounded like a plea.  
  
"The mighty Lorenzo de Medici needs my help. Who would have thought?" Francesco loved teasing him.  
  
"It's true! I have an idea for the Ugly Xmas Sweater Contest on Christmas' Eve, but I need your help. I'm sure that with you, we will win..." Lorenzo said excitedly. This man's love for Christmas' was only evenly-matched by his family's.  
  
Francesco stared inexpressive at his friend. So, that was it. The dumb contest the Medici family would be hosting in a week. He had forgotten about that, because they usually made an exception for him. They didn't force him to participate if he didn't want to, so he didn't. Francesco wasn't sure if what he was feeling was second-hand embarrassment for his friend's inability to think about anything non-Christmas related or disappointment for some reason he couldn't exactly pinpoint. He guessed it was the first option. The second one didn't make any sense. Whatever Francesco expected surely wasn't this.  
  
"We?" This was the word that caught the attention of the young Pazzi.  
  
"Yes, you and I," Francesco could see the outline of Lorenzo's proud smile. "I have a revolutionary idea that can take us to victory. I envision our triumph, but I need you by my side, my dear friend."  
  
"Why do you have to make it sound so corny? Francesco was used to Lorenzo adding useless drama to his words. He couldn't help his poet's heart, as Lorenzo liked to put it. "It's embarrassing…" He felt betrayed at himself that he felt slightly hot on his cheeks.  
  
"So, you are in?" Lorenzo asked eagerly oblivious to the small reaction he had caused on his friend.  
  
"No, first tell me why you need me," Francesco wanted answers and he wanted them now.  
  
"Okay, okay, don't give me that look," Francesco was urging him to speak with his eyes. "So, I thought we could go with one of those double sweaters. Nobody has done that before! Isn't it brilliant?"  
  
"There's no way in hell that will make me agree to do this," Francesco was truly terrified that Lorenzo thought this could be a good idea. "Why me of all people? Why don't you ask Giuliano?" There had to be an alternative.  
  
"It wouldn't work with Giuliano..." Lorenzo sighed as he said these words quietly. "Since you've never took part in the contest, I thought this time you could participate, because you wouldn't be doing it alone. I would be sharing that 'burden' with you," Lorenzo gestured the air quotes with his fingers. "Also, there has always been only one King of Fashion, but this time there could be two. It could be us..." Lorenzo delivered that last word very softly and he let it linger in the air.  
  
"Isn't that against the rules?" Francesco asked as he was trying to fight back the blush that was colouring his cheeks.  
  
"It's all completely legal. There's no rule against it. Simply, no one had thought about it before," Lorenzo answered matter-of-factly. "What do you say?"  
  
"No," Francesco shook his head to emphasize his stand.  
  
"Pretty please?" Lorenzo was using his puppy eyes on him again. His blue orbs shined like stars under the moonlight. "Please?" He even put his hands together as if he was praying.  
  
"I said no," Francesco closed his eyes to not look at his friends face anymore.  
  
"Francesco pleeeaasseee," Lorenzo was begging now.  
  
"The idea is alright, I'm sure someone would like to go with you. You don't need me specifically," Francesco responded doing his best to keep his eyes closed.  
  
"There's no one else I would rather do it with. I only want you, Francesco," Francesco was so shocked his eyes batted open at the sound of these words. Goodbye to his efforts. He was blushing furiously, but he was glad the darkness hid it from Lorenzo. Had he heard it right? Had Lorenzo just confe...? "Please, I will do anything you want in return," Okay, maybe not.  
  
Francesco remained in silence for a moment. He was trying to process what was happening. Lorenzo was on his knees begging him to accept his stupid idea, his puppy eyes shining in all their glory. Even when the moonlight partly illuminated his face, his pouting lips seemed to faintly shine under the silver light. The fact that he caught himself looking at Lorenzo's lips did nothing to ease his reddening face. Unbeknownst to him, Lorenzo was also blushing very hard. He hadn't meant to use those exact words, but now he couldn't take them back. He got too distracted admiring the shadows that the pristine light drew on Francesco's beautiful face. So, his brain decided to play a dirty trick on him. Those cheekbones should be illegal! The fact that Francesco was looking at him quizzically didn't help to soothe him at all.  
  
"Anything I want?" Francesco managed to ask without any disturbance in his voice. Lorenzo shook his head in agreement, afraid his brain would sabotage him again. "If I agree to do it, I can ask you to do one thing for me whenever I want?"  
  
"Yes, it would be as if I granted you a wish," Lorenzo explained as he also succeeded in sounding normal. "But, don't use it to make grant you more wishes, because it doesn't work like this. It's whatever you want whenever you want, but just one time, okay? Do we have a deal?"  
  
Francesco had to think about it carefully. He had the opportunity to gain unlimited power over Lorenzo if he played his cards correctly, which was a concept he could look forward to; but he would have to wear a sweater of unknown ugliness and be stuck by Lorenzo's side literally during a whole party, which wasn't very amusing for Francesco. Which option outweighed the other? Francesco loved the prospect of endlessly teasing Lorenzo about using his wish. However, he didn't enjoy the fact that he would have to wear a ridiculous sweater while every single guest stared at them. God, Lorenzo would thrive with all the attention they would receive, not taking into account their possible victory. Lorenzo would be so proud and smiley all the time. It sent a shiver down Francesco's spine.  
  
"Fine, I'll do it," Francesco surprisingly agreed. The idea of Lorenzo owing him was really tempting, so he ended up accepting the ridiculous plan. "Now, stop making that face."  
  
"For real?!" Lorenzo couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Francesco you are the best!!" The Medici added as he rose up from his position on the floor. His smile was wider than when he first arrived to the party. "It will be great, you'll see! You..."  
  
"Don't say anything like 'you won't regret it', because I'm already doing it," Francesco spoke the truth interrupting whatever Lorenzo was going to say next.  
  
Francesco was partly regretting his decision, not for gaining power over Lorenzo, but because he had succumbed to the other's trickery. It had been the puppy eyes' fault, but he wasn't going to tell Lorenzo any time soon. In fact, he would never tell him. Francesco would not admit or confess his weakness to anyone, even less to Lorenzo himself.  
  



	2. Snow Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with chapter two!! I'm so sorry this update comes so late! I know I'm writing a Christmas fic in the middle of spring (it's almost April!), which is a very substantial delay. Believe me I know. But, in my defense, these past months life has been overwhelming for me. However, do not worry. I will finish this fic even if I do it in the middle August. I won't leave it unfinished I promise.
> 
> Thank you for your patience and for still being here :')  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Only four days remained until Christmas' Eve. With each passing day, Francesco's doubts grew more and more. A part of him told him he had only himself to blame for falling for Lorenzo's shit, whereas the other part was pretty proud of being able to mess with Lorenzo more than ever. This dichotomy didn't prevent his own mind from trying to find a way to avoid wearing the wicked sweater. He had imagined himself buying some flight tickets without looking at the destination. This way no one would be able to find him before the holidays were over. The idea was very tempting, but Francesco considered himself a person of principles. If he had given his word, he would honor it. However, it didn't mean he had to be happy about it.  
  
Speaking of being happy, Francesco was surrounded by happiness right now, but he couldn't care less. It wasn't as if he was unhappy, because that wasn't it, but he didn't feel affected by the contagious joy in the air and he wasn't having the fun everyone else was. Dance parties had never been his thing, but here he was nonetheless. This time he had been dragged by Bianca and, by default, his brother. The Snow Ball will be fun they said. We are not leaving you so you are coming with us you like it or not they also said. He had always preferred to observe the crowd from a safe distance, so he limited himself to do that. His brother and, now, his sister-in-law had told him he didn't have to dance and he would stick to that.  
  
In the time span since they had arrived, Francesco had seen the guests getting drunker and drunker. He hoped for something interesting to happen soon. While he waited for it, he went to get another drink for himself. The only beverages available were snow-related cocktails, such as the abominable snowmanhattan or the snowmosa, which was actually quite good. Francesco had expected the puns on the names of the drinks, but he had underestimated the Medici family ability to go to unimaginable lengths for Christmas parties. Snow was an actual ingredient of the cocktails! Francesco didn't know how they had managed to acquire it, but he didn't bother on questioning himself any further. If the Medici wanted something, they would get it.  
  
Back to his current concern, what to get himself to drink. He could choose to the snowmosa again, he had liked it after all, but he was also curious about the other options. He wasn't planning on getting wasted unlike most of the guests. That meant he wouldn't be able to try all of them, so he had to pick one wisely. In the end, he decided to have the only beverage without real snow in it: the driven snow cocktail. According to the barwoman who made them in the spot, he would enjoy it. Francesco had put his trust in her judgment. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake.  
  
Speaking of mistakes, he hadn't seen Lorenzo yet. He was supposed to be here. He was one of the hosts for crying out loud. Where was he? Not that Francesco wanted to find him. Nope. Lorenzo would remind him about the sweater he would be wearing in four days and Francesco was too sober for that conversation. He shouldn't have accepted the deal. Why did he always end up like this when Lorenzo de Medici was involved? He took a sip from his white cocktail. It was better than what he had expected. The flavor of ginger mixed with the white chocolate and the rum was actually really good.  
  
Francesco went back to his spot at a safe distance from the dance floor, his back against the wall. He would savor his refreshment while he scanned the room in search of something amusing.  
  
Potential incident near the second window to the right. A man was flirting with a woman who looked too annoyed to be enjoying whatever he was saying, but the man didn't seem to register this. The woman had her hands up ushering the man to leave her alone, but it was to no avail. Even though Francesco was at the other side of the room, he would have intervened to save the poor girl if another woman hadn't shown up. The latter stood in front of her friend and told the man to go visibly angry. The man still refused too tipsy to care. So, the new woman threw her drink at him, luckily for the man she kept her glass to later leave it on a table. After that, she took her friend's hand and led her to the dance floor. They mixed themselves with the crowd and Francesco lost track of them.  
  
Francesco couldn't help smirking as he took another sip from his delicious refreshment. That man deserved it. In fact, he deserved to suffer a bit more, if he was being honest. If Bianca had seen it, the man would be so dead. He wished she had. Well, he could always tell her, but he wouldn't do it now. She was probably dancing with Guglielmo, so Francesco would let the couple enjoy the party. After it, he would and he would see that men fall in the Medici black list. He would never be invited to their parties again. Francesco smirk grew wider. He enjoyed this too much for his own good.  
  
His eyes scanned the room again. What would he discover now? Francesco spotted Giuliano dancing dangerously close to a blond girl. Could she be...? Of course, she was Simonetta. She had broken her engagement very recently due to unclear reasons. The rumors said it was because of Giuliano, but they had no substantial proof. Francesco was sure it had been because of him. He had felt the tension between them the few times the three of them had been together in one room. It was painfully obvious. Francesco didn't want to spend his time looking at Giuliano, but he wanted to see him make a fool of himself. Francesco wished to see him stumble and fall or something equally ridiculous. It would be ten times better because Simonetta would be there to witness it all.  
  
Francesco was so fixated on wishing into existence an invisible rock for Giuliano to trip over that he didn't notice the figure approaching him head on.  
  
"Hello, Francesco," the calm voice almost startled him. Of all the all people present at the party, he wasn't expecting her to talk to him.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Medici," Francesco answered back. "Bianca and Giuliano are dancing over there," he gestured at the crowd. "But I haven't seen Lorenzo anywhere."  
  
"Francesco, dear, I have told you many times to call me just Lucrezia," Francesco called her by her name in his mind or when he talked to others, but when he spoke directly to her, he never did for some reason. "Also, if you think I came here because I want to know where my children are, you are mistaken. I just wanted to talk to you. Is it okay, if I do?"  
  
"Yes," it shouldn't surprise him that she wanted to talk to him about other things that weren't her children's whereabouts, but the doubts at the back of his head managed to make him doubt that, "of course."  
  
"First of all, I'm glad you could make it here. I know how busy you are with the bank these days," Lucrezia looked at him knowingly before adding "and how you dislike balls in general."  
  
"I assure you I didn't have much of a choice in that matter," Francesco replied honestly, but also fondly as he tried to spot Guglielmo and Bianca.  
  
"I know, Bianca can be very persuasive if she wants. She got that from her grandmother," Lucrezia contained a small smile at the thought of Contessina. "But, it doesn't change the fact that I'm still glad that you are here," Lucrezia said as she turned around to follow Francesco's gaze. "Can I tell you something?" She asked as she rested her back on the wall next to Francesco.  
  
Francesco just nodded as he took another ginger flavored sip. "I have never explicitly voiced this out loud, but I'm grateful that you and your brother decided to come back to our lives. I don't mean it just for the marriage, but for everything else, “Francesco turned his head at the party host in disbelief. He didn't expect her to tell him something like that out of the blue. "It reminds me of the time when you all were little kids, before your uncle took you both away." Francesco could never forget that day. Never. "Everyone is happier now, even Giuliano. I know he would never admit it, but I'm his mother and, therefore, I know best. And you too, Francesco. Maybe you don't realize it, but I can tell the difference," She winked at him as if she knew something he didn't. He didn’t like that in the slightest.  
  
"Umm..." He muttered trying to deny what Lucrezia had just said, but words failed him.  
  
"I just want you to know that you are and always will be welcome in this house and into our family," she said it easily, but as a statement he'd better believe. "You are like a son to me, so I know sometimes you second-guess your value here. Those must be the lies your uncle fed your mind with all those years... They are not true. You are loved here, even if you don't believe it."  
  
"I... Eeer... Thank you, Mrs. Me... I mean, Lucrezia. Thank you," Francesco didn't know how to respond to Lucrezia's monologue. So, that was all he managed to say.  
  
What Lucrezia had told him had been heavy. Francesco had a lot to unpack from there. First of all, where did all of that come from? Were his internal struggles that visible? Did Lucrezia assume everything or did she just know?!  
  
"I didn't want to throw all that on you like that. I'm sorry, if I went overboard or overstepped, but, "Lucrezia directed her gaze to the dance floor where Bianca and Guglielmo were now visible amongst the crowd. “Seeing them like that, carefree and full of joy, I thought you needed a reminder that you also deserve happiness..." Lucrezia took a sip from his iced cocktail. "Did I sound too much like a grandma? I did, right? Am I that old already? Please, Francesco, tell me," Francesco didn't know if she did it to ease the situation or if she was genuinely concerned.  
  
"No you didn't and you are not that old," Francesco answered truthfully. "Anyway, thank you again for your words."  
  
"You don't need to thank me for that," Lucrezia said as she separated herself from the wall. "I will take my leave now. I don't want to burden you with my thoughts all night. I've annoyed you enough already."  
  
"You don't both..." Francesco tried to deny that but Lucrezia interrupted him again.  
  
"Of course I do, dear," Lucrezia's eyes grew wide as she remembered something she wanted to say. "Before I leave, I want to tell you that I don't know what Lorenzo is planning for Christmas' Eve but he is more excited than usual (and that's something). His plans will most probably include you, so I'm trying to warn you, but don't tell him I suspected it, please."  
  
Too late. He was already part of Lorenzo's plan, but the worst of all was that he accepted willingly. "I won't tell him, I promise."  
  
"Thank you, Francesco. Enjoy the rest of the night!" She said as she left to start a conversation with other guests.  
  
Francesco was finally alone again, but with a lot to think about. Maybe he should get another iced beverage to help him organize his thoughts. Maybe he was already in his way to the drink table.  
  
The music had changed to the classic hits of the 70s and 80s after a while. That seemed to make the people want to crowd the dance floor even more than before. Francesco had been chatting with Guglielmo and Bianca, both needed to rest a bit. However, when the three of them finished their last topic of conversation, the lovebirds returned to the dance floor. Francesco was very glad that they were having fun. The smile on both of their faces almost made him smile. Almost. However, he couldn’t help but think that both of them felt the obligation to check up on him, after they forced him to come here.

“Francesco!” He could recognize that voice anywhere, “I finally found you! I knew you’d be as far away from the dance floor as possible, but jeez you are hidden.”

“It’s time you decided to show up, Lorenzo. What took you so long?” Francesco said as he smirked.

“What’s the hurry? Were you waiting for me or something?” The other teased back.

“Ha! You wish!” He had expected to find Lorenzo at some point during the party, but definitely he had not been waiting for him. Not ever. “You are the host of the party, you are supposed to host it, not to vanish in thin air.”

“Well, I got too distracted with our surprise, you know?”

“Be careful with that, because your mother suspects it has something to do with me,” Lorenzo’s face turned began to lose color. “It is because, apparently, you are happier and more motivated than ever,” Francesco smirked again at widening of Lorenzo’s eyes.

“Nonsense,” Was Lorenzo sweating? “You know that I love Christmas a lot, it’s my favorite season of the year. In fact, it should be Christmas all year!”

What Lorenzo said was true, but he looked nervous for some reason Francesco couldn’t grasp. The sweater contest was a big deal, but it was not it. What was he hiding? Was he upset that Lucrezia had an idea of what was going on?

“Yeah, whatever. I know you are hiding something from me,” Lorenzo stopped fidgeting at the sound of that. Bingo! “Maybe it’s best if I don’t know it. I wouldn’t be able to handle an endless list of details about our hideous sweater. It would be absolute torture. So, I will let it slide this time.”

“Are you sure? You could use your wish to make me say it,” Lorenzo was back to his usual self in a heartbeat. Was he trying to distract him from the truth or was he genuinely worried about the sweater? He 

“I’m not going to waste it in something so useless. I won’t fall for your trickery, Lorenzo,” Francesco crossed his arms, making point and looking at Lorenzo, who had closed his eyes. “Are you listening to me?”

“Shhhttt!” The Medici gestured putting his index finger over his lips. “I love this song.”

“You love all songs,” Francesco whispered to himself.

“What did you say?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes were still closed.

“Nothing relevant,” Francesco asked shortly avoiding falling for Lorenzo’s trap.

“You were complaining, right?” His friend asked as he opened one eye. “Don’t deny it, because I know you, Francesco.”

“I won’t use my wish to make you stop. So, stop trying. I’m immune to your shit, because I know you too, Lorenzo,” Francesco mimicked Lorenzo’s way of talking. If Giuliano had been present, he would have admitted that it was pretty accurate and funny.

“Oh, are you really immune though? Let me check that,” Okay, Francesco didn’t like the sound of that. It would bring something that would be very embarrassing for him for sure. Not again, please.

Of course, Francesco was right. Not only Lorenzo did begin to dance at the rhythm of the music, but he also began to sing the lyrics specifically to him. It was mortifying. He would leave if he hadn’t cornered himself by having his back against the wall. Great. He had to escape, but he wouldn’t use the leverage he had against Lorenzo. That was Lorenzo’s intention, but Francesco has seen right through it. He only had to figure a way out.

“ _How you gonna do it if you really don't want to dance by standing on the wall? (Get your back up off the wall) tell me,_ ” Lorenzo was also singing the background voices too. Amazing. “ _How you gonna do it if you really won't take a chance by standing on the wall? Get your back up off the wall,_ ” he was also signaling him to join him in that ridiculous dance of his. No way, he wasn’t going to do it. He had a reputation to uphold and, more importantly, dignity.

“I won’t join you, Lorenzo. I won’t make you stop using my wish either. You can stop now,” Francesco said as he pushed his back against the wall harder to prove his point. He wasn’t going to move.

“I won’t and you know it,” that was horrifyingly true. “ _Get down on it._ C’mon it’s catchy. _Get down on it._ ” Lorenzo swayed from one side to another with each line of the chorus.

“Sometimes I wonder why we are friends,” Francesco added as he ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly. This situation was absolutely ridiculous.

“I want to think it’s my personality and charm,” Lorenzo continued to tease Francesco with words and with his incessant swaying.

“That may work for everybody, but not me. I’ve just told you,” Francesco grinned at Lorenzo. He wasn’t going to back down. “I’m immune.”

Lorenzo remained silent for a few long seconds, but his chaotic arm movements didn’t stop just to Francesco’s annoyance. However, he wasn’t about to celebrate his win. Francesco knew that a silent Lorenzo was the calm before the storm, so he’d better brace himself. He noticed that Lorenzo’s eyes had a different light on them. They shined as if he had had a brilliant, horrible in Francesco’s opinion, idea. Oh, God. Whatever he had in mind would include him again. What had he done in past lived to deserve this?

When the chorus ended, Lorenzo grabbed Francesco by the wrist and started to pull him away from the wall. The worst part of all was that he was singing the same verse as before. The song was repeating it. Lorenzo had no shame! How dare he smile like that? He was enjoying Francesco’s predicament for sure.

“You can always force me to stop using you-know-what, Francesco,” Lorenzo interrupted his singing to say this. When, he finished he even winked, the devil.

“In your dreams!” Francesco cheek turned a light shade of pink. Of course, it was from embarrassment provoked by the scene Lorenzo was making. What else could be otherwise?

That only made Lorenzo smile wider. He was having the time of his life at the expense of Francesco and the latter could feel it. Lorenzo was dragging him to the dance floor with all the other party guests. Oh God. He knew Francesco didn’t dance. Everyone knew it. Francesco was starting to regret again making the deal with Lorenzo. The leverage he had over Lorenzo, his wish, better be worth it. It was the only consolation he had. He had to cling to it as he dealt with Lorenzo’s shenanigans.

When Lorenzo finally stopped, Francesco realized they were in the center of the joyful crowd. Everyone around him was dancing, including Lorenzo who was swaying a little from side to side as if he was waiting for him, everyone but him. That made him uncomfortable. Did Lorenzo bring him here so everyone would judge him? Was Lorenzo that twisted? Was he going that far to make sure the leverage he had against him vanished? Maybe Jacopo had been right, only a little, but right after all...  
  
A gentle tug got him out of his thoughts. It was Lorenzo who still had his hand on his wrist. He hadn't noticed that, how embarrassing. He could feel his cheeks getting a bit redder. Lorenzo was concerned. Francesco could tell by his smile, which ends had dropped, and by the fact that he was still on a dance floor.  
  
"What's wro...?" Lorenzo asked him, but Francesco interrupted him before he could finish.  
  
"I'm not going to fall for your schemes, even if they include ridiculing me in front of all your guests," Francesco told him dryly. "I'm not going to use it."  
  
"What?" Lorenzo's face showed surprise and it hid hurt. "I don't want to make fun of you! You are my friend, Francesco," his gaze dropped to the floor. "I brought you here, because, yes, I wanted you to use your wish, I know it's not going to happen, but I knew that beforehand. Francesco, you are stubborn, but in a good way!" Francesco felt the thumb on his wrist move in circles. He only did that unconsciously when he was nervous... But, more importantly, Francesco couldn't believe Lorenzo's hand was still there! "When you make your mind about something, no one can't make you change your point of view, which is a thing I totally respect and I find admirable to be honest. It's kind of cool actually... Jeez, I'm rambling again, forgive me," Lorenzo sighed loudly and raised his gaze back to Francesco. "What I wanted to say is that I also wanted you to have fun. You have been standing by a wall for hours. I got held up doing... stuff. I know you say you don't dance, but it's because you don't like people staring at you. You think they look for flaws or ways to mock you. That's why I brought you here. Contrary to what most people think, the center of a dancing crowd is where the less people can see you. Look at their faces if you don't believe me. No one is paying attention to us, even though we are not moving."  
  
Francesco looked around and it was true. Everybody was too focused on their friends or on their partner to look at them. No, that Lorenzo had mentioned it, it was true. Francesco hadn't been able to find Guglielmo and Bianca for a long while. They must have been here. This meant that Lorenzo and he were safe from prying eyes. Francesco suddenly realized the connotations of his own thought and blushed. To his surprise, when he directed his gaze back to Lorenzo, he was blushing too. Oh. He had finally let go of his wrist.  
  
Then, trying to look elsewhere that wasn't Lorenzo's hands, Francesco saw from the corner of his eyes the two girls from before. They were laughing and dancing freely, the incident with that man seemed forgotten. Francesco was glad that that man didn't ruin the party for them. They looked genuinely happy. Someone of the crowd moved out of the way, which allowed Francesco to see the pair clearly. They were holding hands, which meant they weren't just friends, but more...  
  
A hand on his shoulder returned him back to the reality in front of him, Lorenzo. Can't he just have a moment of peace?  
  
"Are you okay? I saw you spacing out for a while..." Lorenzo's concerns were interrupted again by his friend.  
  
"Of course, I am," Francesco answered as he swiped Lorenzo's arm off his shoulder.  
  
When their hands touched for the briefest of moments, Francesco thought about Lorenzo leading him here by the wrist and the cold sensation he felt there now. His hands and, by extension, his wrists were usually colder than the rest of his body, but this was different. It was odd. Then, he recalled the image of the woman leading her girlfriend (he supposed) to the dance floor. The first one had dragged the other one by taking the latter’s hand, whereas Lorenzo had dragged him by the wrist. Both situations were similar and incredibly different at the same time. Did the two women and everybody else see them as more than friends too? Too? What? That didn’t make any sense whatsoever. Francesco shook the previous confusing thoughts out of his mind, but the red stripes of shame were already spreading through his cheeks and neck.  
  
"Let's get this over with," he added as quickly as his thoughts allowed him, trying to save the embarrassing situations as he could.  
  
With that, Francesco started to sway mimicking the movements Lorenzo had been doing before. When Lorenzo understood what was going on, he joined Francesco hurriedly. He had the widest and brightest smile Francesco had ever seen. It was incredible how the simplest things made Lorenzo, a man who had everything in the world, happy.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Lorenzo sings is called [ Get Down On It by Kool & The Gang ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qchPLaiKocI).
> 
> You can follow me on [ twitter](https://twitter.com/gilbird14) if you want :)


	3. Christmas’ Eve – Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I’m sorry again for updating so late. Lockdown and quarantine aren’t helping with my creativity, which means it takes me even more time than before to write things down. However, I didn’t want to leave you guys without an update, so I split this chapter in two parts. I hope those of you who are still here like this chapter. Thank you for sticking around!
> 
> Take care and be safe <3

Francesco hadn't received any messages from Lorenzo in since the Snow Ball, four days ago. It was extremely unusual. Francesco couldn't recall a day where Lorenzo hadn't texted him one since the Medici came back to his life. It was very unlike him to do that. He loved sending him selfies, which he hadn't erased from his phone because they could be useful someday, stickers and messages out of the blue. Sometimes he asked about how and what Francesco was doing. Other times he started talking nonstop or sent him a picture of whatever had crossed the Medici's mind. Not receiving anything from him was weird. Francesco hadn't texted him asking why or if he was okay. No, he wasn't worried. He was probably, or almost surely, getting everything ready for tonight's party, Christmas’ Eve's. It was the most awaited party for all the guests, but it had become the most dreaded for Francesco. Not that he would admit it, but he was horrified of the abominable sweater he would have to wear later that evening.

Hoping for a discrete design was useless. Lorenzo was a lot of things, but discrete wasn't among them. He was made to be in the spotlight. He liked being the centre of attention. The image of a glittery red sweater with golden LEDs appeared in his mind like a nightmare. It sent shivers down his spine. He was sure that monster of a garment would haunt him till his last days... 

Luckily; a faint buzz coming from his phone saved Francesco from the shiny sweater. He quickly went to check the message he had received. Anything to keep his mind occupied! But, soon, Francesco discovered his efforts were in vain. The message was from Lorenzo asking him to meet in his room just before the party. It was crystal clear. God hated Francesco. The banker was sure of it. He didn't know what he had done in another life to deserve this, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad. He rubbed his temples while he wondered why he had agreed to Lorenzo's shenanigans in the first place.

After a while, Francesco's thoughts shifted to what he would do with his wish. Lorenzo would do anything (crimes were not included in the deal) that he asked him to do... What if Francesco told him to wear a normal sweater for next year's Christmas party? Lorenzo wouldn't like it at all, but he would comply. That would be a cold revenge, but Francesco wasn't sure he would actually use his wish for thus. He would save his eyes from Lorenzo's next creative creation, which would be appreciated, but Francesco knew that was cruel. Knowing how much the Medici loved Christmas and specially Lorenzo, he couldn't do that. He wasn't heartless. Maybe a good option would be asking him to stop using his puppy eyes on him. However, Lorenzo could interpret it like they worked which they sadly did, and Francesco wouldn't be able to erase the Medici's wide grin from his face. Jeez, Lorenzo was annoying him even in his own thoughts. Francesco would find something appropriate. He didn't need to rush it.

Francesco kept himself busy almost all day sealing deals for the Pazzi Bank. Some costumers were more eager to accept offers during the holidays. They always were in good spirits during this time of the year, so Francesco, as the successful businessman he was, took advantage of it. He wasn't tricking or deceiving them though. Francesco had managed to confirm that people were more receptive to his new ideas around Christmas, which meant he didn't have to waste a lot of time convincing them. It was beneficial for him and for the Bank, which was a win-win situation. He had to give credit to Jacopo for teaching him this lesson many years ago.

Francesco found himself in the garage of the Medici household almost without realizing. He had been paying attention to the road like every driver should do, but his brain hadn't registered it. He had been thinking about his uncle during the trip. So, everything he had done had been in auto-pilot mode. Jacopo had taught him many valuable banking tips and techniques, but he also made Francesco unlearn or forget other precious lessons his parents had told him. At least, Guglielmo had remained the kind soul he had always been...

Francesco went straight to Lorenzo's quarters. On his way there, he saw several waiters with trays full of champagne go to the ballroom. The party was about to begin. Francesco wondered how many guests were already in there, waiting for the alcohol to run and the music to start. When he was about to knock on Lorenzo's door, he heard him curse. Something must have been amiss. Lorenzo, the self-called poet, did not use swear words. Francesco opened the door quickly, forgetting to knock or ask for permission, to see Lorenzo sitting on his bed with his index fingertip in his mouth and a large horrendous sweater sprawled over his bed and legs. 

"Oh... Hi, Francesco!" Lorenzo said removing his finger from his mouth and with the other free hand applying pressure to it. "You have startled me."

"Don't blame me. Whatever happened, it's your fault not mine," Francesco answered while his eyes scanned the scene in front of him. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, I was finishing knitting the sweater when I prickled my finger again. For some reason it keeps happening to me..." Lorenzo said that last part more to himself than to Francesco.

"Did you knit it all by yourself?" Francesco asked to see Lorenzo nodding proudly seconds after. 

Francesco wouldn't tell Lorenzo, but he was impressed. The sweater was huge and had different colors, patterns and designs he could not see very well. No wonder Lorenzo hadn't had time to text him. Just by looking at it, he could see all the effort and hours the Medici had put in it. Francesco hadn't thought Lorenzo would make the piece of clothing himself. He had just thought he would buy a custom sweater, but Lorenzo had surprised him this time.

"Give me a couple minutes. There are only a few stitches left," Lorenzo told Francesco whereas he picked the long needles again and resumed knitting. "You can sit there, if you want," he pointed towards his desk chair with his head. 

Francesco accepted his friend's offer. He sat there and watched Lorenzo work quietly. They were on a confortable silence that was only interrupted from time to time by the clink of the metallic needles. Francesco moved his gaze from Lorenzo's hands, which were working efficiently, to his face. He was completely focused on finishing the sweater in time. His blue eyes were fixed on the needles and the wool. He furrowed slightly his brow in concentration. His tongue was grazing his upper lip, which he always did in this kind of situations.

Then, Francesco saw light shine in Lorenzo's eyes. It was like the Sun had appeared in the sky trapped in his orbs. Francesco could also see how a smile grew in Lorenzo's face. It started as a mix of surprise and realization and it quickly grew into a wide smile, which showed all his perfect white teeth. He was radiating happiness and accomplishment.

"Francesco! It is done!" Lorenzo exclaimed proudly as he waved the sweater in the air. "Look! Look!"

Francesco blushed lightly in response. Lorenzo's ingenuousness took him by surprise. It was the same face he had when they were children and played together in the streets. They played with each other's Christmas gifts for hours. There were no rivalries between the Medici and The Pazzi. Francesco's parents would have never allowed it. Back then, the four of them were happy. Now, he only had Guglielmo thanks to his uncle. Francesco looked at Lorenzo one more time. Maybe Lorenzo hadn't changed, but Francesco did. 

"You truly outdid yourself, Lorenzo. It definitely lives up to its name: Ugly Christmas Sweater," Francesco said trying to avoid the same thoughts that had invaded his mind. However, when he saw the smallest trace of Lorenzo's pout he quickly added "however, it isn't the most hideous thing you have worn."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Lorenzo added carefully examining the back seams of the sweater. "Should we try it on?"

"I have no other choice, do I?" Francesco said rolling his eyes. When, he looked back at Lorenzo, he was taking off his plain sweater, but he was doing a poor job at it. His lower back was exposed and at this rate he would end up taking off his shirt too. "Lorenzo, what are you doing?" He tried to ask normally, but he had squeaked his friend's named, which was utterly embarrassing.

"I'm taking off my sweater, so I can put on the good one," Lorenzo said, his head still covered by his clothes. "It's made of pure wool, so it will be hot in there. I don't plan on overheating and I hope you don't either." 

Lorenzo fought against his clothes but his efforts were useless. Francesco was having serious trouble to contain his laugh. The scene in front of him was truly ridiculous. It couldn't be that difficult to take off one's sweater.

"Lorenzo, the Magnificent, trapped in his own clothes. Hilarious!" Francesco snickered.

"Francesco, a little help?" Lorenzo asked, not finding the situation amusing, only embarrassing.

Francesco moved closer to his friend looking for the source of Lorenzo's current predicament. After a quick inspection he discovered that the shirt and the sweater were rolled-up together, which made completely impossible the completion of that simple task. Francesco attempted to undo the mess, but he accidentally touched Lorenzo's bare skin. 

"OH MY GOD! Francesco, your hands are frozen!!" Lorenzo squawked in response to the touch.

"Don't complain, Lorenzo. I'm helping you," Francesco answered as his hands worked on the problem, "which is more than I would normally do. This is embarrassing."

Francesco spent a few more seconds separating the two pieces of clothing, before letting Lorenzo know he could finally be free of his prison of fabric. However before that, he put his cold palm against Lorenzo's lower back, just because he could and it was amusing. Even if it was just a moment, Francesco felt the heat emanating from Lorenzo's skin, almost warming his. He didn't have much time to dwell on his own thoughts, because Lorenzo let out a very high-pitched complain as he jumped away from Francesco to which the latter could only laughed at.

"YOU DID IT ON PURPOUSE!!" Lorenzo screeched. 

"Maybe," Francesco snickered in response.

After this entire ordeal, Lorenzo was finally able to free himself from his own plain sweater and straighten his shirt, covering all possible weak spots. Francesco noticed his friend's face was red as a tomato, which only made his trademark smirk appear on his face again.

"I... You..." Lorenzo was too ashamed to complain properly. His attention was quickly directed to the recently finished sweater. "Here try..." Lorenzo almost dropped the object of Francesco's nightmares to the ground when he saw the latter stripping. "What are you doing?!" He inquired with an unusual high-pitched voice.

"I'm doing what you said. I don't plan on overheating inside that monstrosity," Francesco replied matter-of-factly. However, seeing the heat on Lorenzo's face had only increased, he asked. "Is something the matter?" 

"No, no. You've just caught me off guard..." Francesco could tell Lorenzo had to divert his gaze from his torso, "again."

Oh. So Lorenzo was distracted by his muscles. Francesco didn't know how all his clothes managed to hid his form as much as they did. It didn't help either that he always dressed to the nines. Even in summer he managed to wear blazers or other fancy jackets to important bank meetings. Etiquette was essential, a must. Francesco exercised and trained almost every day. He took pride in the fact that he could achieve further and further goals. Despite that, he did not show off the results of his training regime. However, now that his chest was only covered by an undershirt, all his muscles could shine. If Lorenzo's eyes were any indicator of that, maybe they did in a more literal sense of the word. 

"Like what you see?" Francesco teased Lorenzo one more time. His smirk settled on his face again, when he saw Lorenzo's face red as the sunset.

After a few more minutes of teasing and a lively discussion of "the view" in front of Lorenzo, Francesco was trying to find a way to put on the double sweater. It was more difficult now that Lorenzo was inside of the woollen monstrosity. He had done that trying to avoid listening to Francesco's words. It was to no avail, but at least he had something else to focus on. If Francesco was being honest with himself, he was completely at a loss. Luckily for him and his pride, he had never the opportunity to wear a double sweater; firstly, because he didn't like them or Christmas and, secondly, because he never had someone stupid enough willing to wear one with him. He wasn't going to voice these thoughts out loud, because it would mean accepting defeat before the monstrosity. No way.

In the end, with Lorenzo's help, he could put it on. Lorenzo was holding part of the sweater from the inside with one hand, whereas with the other he hold the outer part, which created an clear entrance for Francesco, who crouched underneath it, and a clear exit for his head. Francesco rose slowly, entering the fabric. Despite his slow speed, he ended up putting a hand on Lorenzo’s back again. However, this time was an unconscious response to try to steady him. It automatically sent a large shudder down Lorenzo's spine. Francesco moved his hand away almost immediately. Lorenzo had remained silent, but Francesco muttered an apology when his head resurfaced among all the wool. 

Francesco thought about the differences between Lorenzo's responses to his touched. He couldn't help comparing them. They had been pretty different. The first one had been enjoyable to see, the second one not so much. Lorenzo wasn't looking at him and the fact that he wasn't even accepting his apology was alarming. Were Francesco's hands too cold? Is that the cause of Lorenzo's shudder? Was his touch that unpleasant? Too conscious of himself, he tried to move as far from Lorenzo as the sweater allowed him, which wasn't much, but at least he wouldn't touch the other as frequently. However, all his preoccupations became instantly secondary when Francesco saw clearly the front pattern of the sweater reflected on the mirror surface.

"You are kidding me!" Francesco said with a groan of displeasure.

The monstrosity's design made an evident separation between the two people in it. Lorenzo's part was read and had a colorful sock with several presents overflowing, whereas Francesco's part was green and had a sock full of coal, but that wasn't the worst! The embroidered white letters stated that Lorenzo had been nice, whereas Francesco had been naughty. This was a critical flaw in the sweater design, according to Francesco. He knew that Lorenzo was devious under his many smiles and cheerfulness. He tricked him into this charade! He used his puppy eyes on him! Francesco quickly redirected those last thoughts to something else. It wouldn't do any favours to him to dwell on those things. Despite his countless efforts, everyone was blind to the Medici trickery, which made him sigh loudly.

"Don't be like this, Francesco," Lorenzo said admiring his knitting job in the mirror. "I think it looks great, not because I have made it, though! I had minor setbacks because I had to change yarn colors so many times, that I lost count of the stitches..." Lorenzo examined the seams of the sweater with caution, totally oblivious to what was going on inside his friend's head. When he made sure that everything was where it was supposed to be, he made a declaration of intent. "We are definitely winning tonight!"

"Oh God..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ugly Christmas sweater design is based on [ this wonderful fanart ](https://kael-san.tumblr.com/post/189582862558/it-is-time-for-the-christmas-lorenzo-and) by [ Kael-san ](https://kael-san.tumblr.com) on tumblr. They draw incredible fanart of the Medici and ther shows, so please give them all the love in the world! <3


	4. Christmas’ Eve – Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Guess who is still writing a Christmas fic in summer? ME! I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner, but as I said I will finish this fic no matter how long it takes me. Thank you very much for sticking around and bearing with my slow writing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
> 
> Take care and stay safe!

Francesco had prepared himself mentally for the copious number of stares they would get when they entered the ballroom. To his surprise, they only got a few. However, they were soon followed by whispers and more double-checks. Francesco hated it. Why couldn't people mind their own business? He didn't want to know what those guests were talking about or what their minds had made up already. Despite those people being very obvious, which only acerbated Francesco even more, Lorenzo was completely oblivious to what they were doing. The Pazzi wondered if Lorenzo was used to it by now, with all the parties he hosted and countless more he attended, and, therefore, he paid them no mind or if he was just a naïve idiot. Francesco opted for the second option in the end.  
  
Lorenzo greeted and stopped to say a few kind words to almost every guest, regardless of their previous actions. Francesco couldn't stand making small talk with random people. He thought that talking for the sake of talking with strangers was useless. Well, they weren't actually strangers, not all of them at least. Mostly, they were acquittances or people whose names were mentioned in some casual conversation. Despite his way of thinking, he wasn't rude or unpolite to the other guests. He had manners and was pretty proud of them. Francesco just greeted them, but after that he remained silent until Lorenzo deemed that the conversation was over, which surprisingly in some occasions it was pretty soon.  
  
Francesco's irritation was growing as the time passed, because people couldn't seem to mind their own business. He was sure more people were staring and talking behind their backs. But, of course, Lorenzo was still smiling at everyone as if nothing happened. The Medici parties were basically Medici-friendly, not Pazzi-friendly, except for Guglielmo who was basically a Medici for everyone. Francesco knew it was mostly his uncle's fault for straining the relationship with the Medici family to a point almost beyond repair. However, he despised all those eyes for keeping grudges against him and for not knowing better. They were probably thinking that he was tricking Lorenzo, that he was faking their friendship in order to steal his secrets or something delusional like that. If Lorenzo's friends thought like this, what was keeping him form thinking the same? Francesco shook that idea from his head. Their family friends didn't like him and he knew that. One thing was attending a party and going unnoticed by the crowd and another one completely different was sharing the spotlight with Lorenzo de Medici.  
  
Francesco cursed himself for accepting Lorenzo's offer. He hadn't had time to think how he would use his wish. It had to be something that could compare to his current amount of humiliation, but nothing had come to his mind. Lorenzo would probably accept whatever Francesco asked for with a smile and would be done with it. He had to think about it carefully. He would get his revenge. At least, this train of thoughts helped him distract himself from the party. He just followed Lorenzo and greeted whoever was talking to them.  
  
However, a ghostly brush of heat on Francesco's hand halted all his machinations. His eyes instinctively looked for his hand, but it was covered by the woollen monstrosity. He looked at Lorenzo soon after searching for a clue or an explanation. The Medici hadn't had any sudden reaction or any visible one. He was talking excitedly with an artist friend of Sandro's, Francesco managed to recall. Francesco hadn't been paying attention to their conversation, but he noticed that Lorenzo was enjoying the topic as much as the other man. Both gesticulated quite a lot, but Lorenzo only with one arm. The other one remained still and hidden under their shared sweater. Francesco only had a plausible explanation for the mysterious heat. Their hands had touched unintentionally, but he couldn't find a reason why this little action triggered the warmth on his skin.  
  
"... even Francesco had to agree to wear it."  
  
Francesco at the sound of his name tossed his thoughts aside and tried to join the conversation as smoothly as he could. "What? I must have been lost in thought, my apologies."  
  
"I was saying that my idea for a double sweater was so good that even you agreed to wear it," Lorenzo said with a casual smile directed at him.   
  
"I recall it wasn't exactly like that." Francesco replied feeling that the smile painted on his friend's face was mocking him.  
  
"Well, we wouldn't be here if you hadn't agreed to it," Lorenzo had the nerve to add a wink at the end of the sentence.  
  
Francesco had a reply, but it died on his lips. He didn't want to cause a scene. His irritation was clouding his judgement. Lorenzo wouldn't make fun of him in front of his friends, right? But he had just done it. The voice at the back of his head was telling him that the Medici couldn't be trusted. They would trick him into becoming their puppet and do whatever they wanted with him.   
  
"Whatever." It was the only thing Francesco replied as uninterested as he could, maintaining his annoyance hidden. He turned his gaze to the man in front him missing the confusion on Lorenzo's face completely.  
  
Francesco was fed up with the party and it had only begun. He hated falseness and the situations it caused. He sighed in his mind. It was going to be a very long night for him.  
  
Lorenzo had tried talking to Francesco on several occasions. It was obvious something was bothering him, but he couldn't guess what exactly, besides the fact that his friend wasn't very fond of Christmas per se. However, he hadn't had the chance to actually have a conversation with the man glued to his side as ridiculous as it sounded. It felt like a joke that wasn't funny at all. Lorenzo had been surrounded by people who had wanted to speak with him since they had entered the ballroom. He had answered every single question his guests could come up with, which meant that Francesco had been accidentally side-lined from the conversation. Lorenzo also knew Francesco wasn't as comfortable as he appeared to be. That's why he had been avoiding Giuliano on purpose. It was clear as day that it would only bother Francesco even more. Only Giuliano's presence was enough to worsen Francesco's mood. Moreover, that night the youngest Medici sibling was sporting a hideous sweater that had "Jingle My Bells" written on it above a pair con bells located dangerously near his private parts. It didn't take a genius to know that Francesco would be offended by such vulgarity, which he had every reason to be. So, Lorenzo had been avoiding his brother deliberately until Francesco somehow calmed or he had the chance to talk to him.  
  
Fortunately after a while, Lorenzo managed to avoid any potential new conversations as he walked to a less populated side of the ballroom. Francesco seemed to be deep in his own thoughts again, so that would explain he didn't immediately notice the change in his surroundings Lorenzo guessed. Francesco wasn't frowning or visually upset, but his features wasn't relaxed either, which wasn't good. Lorenzo pondered if he should touch the younger Pazzi's arm to bring him back to the party, knowing it could bother him even more, or if he should just call Francesco's name and wait for a response. In the end, he opted for the second option. He didn't want to annoy him even more and he wanted to avoid any possible angry outbursts. Francesco was known for making dramatic exits when he was particularly pissed, which would cause a scene and Lorenzo didn't want that. There was also the fact that Francesco would probably rip the sweater in half in the process. In conclusion, Lorenzo couldn't let him leave. He couldn't risk his hard work going down the toilet or having to answer millions of questions from friends and family alike. However, Lorenzo knew that the real reason was he didn't want Francesco to leave.  
  
"Francesco..." Lorenzo said failing to catch his friend's attention. He waited a few seconds before trying again. "Francesco." Still no answer from the Pazzi. "Francesco!" Lorenzo said raising his voice a bit. "Are you okay? You have been spacing out since we arrived."  
  
The third one was the charm as it did the trick, because the younger Pazzi's eyes focused on Lorenzo instead of looking at nothing in particular as they had been doing for a while.   
  
"Yes." A bit of Francesco's annoyance slipped in his answer.   
  
"Are you sure? I mean, you have just answered that you are, but..." Lorenzo stumbled a bit with his word, trying to find a way to express himself without further annoying Francesco. "I can feel that there's something that is really bothering you. I know you dislike these parties and the overall theme of Christmas and, despite that, you still show up every year. It means a lot, seriously..." Lorenzo trailed off as he got lost inside those brown orbs that observed him. Luckily for him, it only took a few seconds to recompose himself and his thoughts. "I just want you to be comfortable. I don't expect you to enjoy the festivities as much as my family, but I at least I don't want you to have a bad time. Francesco, please, tell me. Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?"  
  
Francesco remained silent more time than it was necessary. He was studying Lorenzo's face. The Medici's brow was furrowed, his lips pointed slightly downward and his eyes had a look he couldn't exactly decipher. He seemed worried. His voice could sell that. Lorenzo was a master of words and always had his way with people. Francesco couldn't help but wonder if Lorenzo was actually upset or if it was just for show. Didn't he recall mocking him before in front of that wannabe-artist? He had done it. He had smiled at him knowingly, as if he was superior to him. God, he hated that feeling so much. Didn't Lorenzo see the people talking behind his back? Whispers, laughs and jokes aimed at both of them went unnoticed by Lorenzo. How? Was he blind or oblivious? A dangerous idea popped at the back of Francesco's brain. Lorenzo didn't mind the talking, because it wasn't aimed at him, but at Francesco. He allowed it to happen consciously. That sounded like something his uncle would say. His influence was poison. He had seen with his own eyes the Medici weren't like this. But, the conflict inside him didn't let him think as rationally as he would have liked.  
  
"How. How can you be so blind?" Francesco replied with a question of his own. He couldn't put all his contradictory thoughts into words. They were so many. So, he could only ask what he knew for sure. "How can you not see it?" He asked it so calmly, that even Francesco was surprised.  
  
"What are you talking about, Francesco?" Lorenzo was taken aback by his friend's accusations. "I don't get..."  
  
The opportunity to finish what he was saying was snatched from him as Francesco interrupted him again. "Of course, you don't know. Of course, you don't see. So magnificent everyone thinks you are, but you cannot comprehend what's going on. Funny isn't it?" His voice was cutting, but it didn't feel like a finishing blow. There was something inside of him holding him back, preventing him to talk exactly like his uncle. Something hidden amongst his doubts. Something that Francesco wasn't aware of.   
  
"Francesco, please, tell me. What's wrong?" It sounded like a plea. "If I did something wrong, I want to know. I want to make it right! I'm sorry for upsetting you so much. It wasn't my intention..." Lorenzo's blue eyes were clouded with concern, but he couldn't maintain his gaze on Francesco, so he directed it to the ground. "I'm truly sorry, Francesco. I shouldn't have dragged you into this on the first place. I thought it... I was..." He trailed off again, visibly preoccupied. He inhaled and directed looked back at his friend. Francesco's felt a jab on his stomach, when he saw Lorenzo looking like a kicked puppy, but he dismissed it as soon as he could. "You can leave if you can't bear to be here. I won't ask you to stay if you don't want to. I understand it. This doesn't mean that I won't fulfil our deal. You have come here and put on this ugly thing, so, as a man of my word, I will do whatever you ask me to do as I promised." Despite his eyes looking sad, they also hold determination inside them. "But, please, Francesco, tell me what I did wrong."  
  
In that moment, Francesco felt the strange warmth again, but this time in his arm, just above his elbow. It felt oddly comforting, almost soothing. He realized it was Lorenzo trying to convey his concern by touch. It burned against Francesco's cold skin. Since when did his touch feel like fire? They had touched before, and it hadn't felt like this. During the Snow Ball, Lorenzo had held his wrist for a while. Even his thumb had drawn circles on his hand. It had felt... good. Lorenzo's skin had always been warmer than his. He was like a walking heater, but never an industrial furnace. His touch felt like... Francesco cursed himself internally. Did he really think that Lorenzo's touch felt good? He was more upset than he thought, if his anger was affecting him like this. Of course, it didn't feel nice, it would burn him alive. Then, why didn't he pull away immediately?  
  
Francesco was about to talk when a feminine voice echoed through all the ballroom. It seemed the world was against them having a conversation or an angry outburst of sorts.  
  
"Good evening, dear guests. I hope you are all having a good time." It was Lucrezia's voice. Of course, everyone turned to look at the party host. "I know for sure that you are enjoying the food, the company and, some more than others, the drinks." That earned her a good number of friendly laughs amongst the crowd.  
  
Lucrezia de Medici was on a wooden stage, rising above the guests. Behind her, there were huge letters that formed the message "Merry Christmas' Eve". Francesco was noticing the stage, the several decorations and the fact that everyone was wearing an ugly sweater in that specific moment. He blamed himself for being so absorbed in his own mind. Maybe Lorenzo wasn't the only one who couldn't see some things. He shook his head. He needed to focus.  
  
"You know which day it is today and the tradition of this family, by now. That's right. It is time to announce who will be the winner of our Ugly Xmas Sweater Contest. This person will be crowned King of Fashion..." Lucrezia went on talking and keeping the people engaged in the ridiculous shenanigans of the Medici family.   
Francesco unconsciously went to rub his arm, completely forgetting it was under the woollen sweater. It felt rather cold, instead of warm. It wasn't as it should be. However, he never got to touch his arm, as the knitted wool prevented him from it. Luckily for him, Lorenzo had turned his attention to his mom. He seemed caught off guard. Had he forgotten about the contest? No, impossible. Lorenzo would never forget something related to Christmas. Then, he realized it. Both of Lorenzo's arms were hanging at his sides. Francesco was going absolutely crazy, if he was missing Lorenzo's tou...  
  
"Without further ado, this year the winner is... Or should I say winners? Please, welcome to the stage Lorenzo de Medici and Francesco Pazzi. Our Kings of Fashion!" The crowd erupted in cheers and claps as Lucrezia smiled widely.  
  
Francesco saw Lorenzo tense up at the sound of their names. Didn't he involve him in all this mess because he expected to win? Why was he reacting like this? Lorenzo turned to look at him, more or less at the same time everyone's eyes laid on them both, but he wasn't showing any happiness for their victory.  
  
"We don't have to go up there, if you don't to. You are uncomfortable and I don't want to push you to do things you don't want to." Lorenzo sounded serious saying that. He was willing to refuse a Christmas-related victory for him. That was a big thing coming from him Francesco thought.  
  
"I will go up there with you. I am a man of my word too, you know? We will talk later." Francesco said that without any trace of anger in his voice. He was still annoyed and pissed, but his honour and his word came before any of that.  
  
Lorenzo's lips curved upwards. It wasn't as wide or as bright as Francesco was used to. The guests wouldn't tell the difference, but Francesco did and he knew deep down that this smile didn't suit Lorenzo. The usual Lorenzo would be over the Moon for winning his own family contest, but instead he was anxious and all tensed up. Francesco felt a tiny bit guilty about it. He felt like he had ruined the mood, but he also felt like he had valid reasons to be angry. Since when was everything so damn complicated?  
  
They made their way towards the stage without any complications. The people around them moved out of their way in order to let them pass. However, Lorenzo had that smile on his face the entire time, the one that wasn't entirely genuine, but it did the trick for everyone else except Francesco. The Medici also waved and made amicable gestures to his friends and acquaintances alike. Francesco, on the other hand, made clear display of his displeasure. He didn't particularly like any of these parties, so it had become his usual face during those days. Nobody would be able to tell the difference. Well, it shouldn't be any surprise, since no one could distinguish a fake smile on their beloved host's face. Francesco also noticed some people whispering in the shadows as they walked near them. Others were trying their best to conceal their laughter, as if they had been told a bad but funny joke. Had they no shame or manners? Francesco's irritation towards them grew once more.  
  
"Please, another applause for our Kings of Fashion." Lucrezia said on her microphone when they reached the spot next to her. "The idea to do a shared sweater is really creative and bold. How come no one had thought of this before? Tell me, how did you come up with this idea?"  
  
Lucrezia put the microphone in the space between them out of respect, despite expecting her son to answer the question. However, Francesco was the one to answer when he saw that Lorenzo was hesitating. It was the best option. The sooner Francesco answered with something that would please both the crowd and Lucrezia, the sooner they would get off the stage. The usual alternative would have been to let Lorenzo sweet talk everyone with his silver tongue, but the Medici's tongue wouldn't charm anyone in his owner's current state.  
  
"Truth to be told, it was all Lorenzo's idea. He was sure there were no rules against having two winners at the same time, so he decided to knit all this monstrosity by himself." He would tell the truth. The guests would like that, even though they didn't deserve Francesco's kindness or good words. "I still don't know how he was able to finish it on time or how he managed to convince me to do this. So, yes, all the merit goes to Lorenzo, but I'd like to claim some of his merit for me as well, because I have to suffer wearing this all night."   
  
The crowd laughed at his last words, understanding them as humour, but Francesco was being completely serious. He turned his gaze to Lorenzo to see if he had gone back to his usual self, instead he found him looking at him with a face Francesco couldn't decipher. Was he surprised that he had talked? Francesco just wanted to get the hell out of the spotlight. The reason why his words had been those without malice or anger escaped him. He had even been kind! He was supposed to be angry, for crying out loud!  
  
"Is there anything you want to add, Lorenzo?" Lucrezia asked putting the microphone near her son's face this time.  
  
"Well, I..." Lorenzo closed his eyes and, when he opened them a moment later, he looked composed. "There is not much more to the story than what Francesco said. I'll spare you all the details of my convincing." He joked and winked. The crowd laughed in response. He had it all under control. "The only thing I want to add is my thanks for choosing us Kings of Fashion this year. Thank you! Thank you all!"   
  
When everybody thought that he had finished talking, Lorenzo grabbed he microphone from his mother's hand and turned to Francesco to speak.   
  
"I cannot leave without thanking you, Francesco, for putting up with my ideas, despite not liking them, for bearing with me and for being my sweater partner. I couldn't have done this without you."  
  
The crowd cheered and clapped. There were some whistles too and, even, some "Aaaawww"s coming from all the ballroom. However, neither King of Fashion had heard anything, both were too busy looking at each other to notice the world around them. Lorenzo's eyes were fixed on Francesco's. They spoke what he could not say in front of everyone. He was apologizing for upsetting him and not knowing how, but he was also thanking him for not leaving, for staying and for keeping his word. There were other things that Francesco couldn't tell. Lorenzo's eyes were too expressive if you knew how to read them. They conveyed with one look everything that Lorenzo was feeling. They were the mirrors to his soul, no filters there, straight to his core. Francesco felt a faint blush appear on his cheeks and he prayed that it wasn't noticeable. It wasn't the time or place to be overwhelmed by Lorenzo's words. His stomach felt funny too. Great. Despite all thus, he couldn't take his gaze away from Lorenzo. His eyes were speaking to him, but he could not understand all the message they were sending. Maybe, if he could get a bit closer, he could see better what the blue orbs were saying...  
  
"Awww, so sweet." Another feminine voice said. Luckily for the royal pair, she didn't have a microphone, so it wasn't blasted through all the ballroom. However, that voice made both Kings exit their little bubble and come back to the party. "Aren't they cute?"  
  
The voice belonged to Bianca who had a crown on her hands. She wasn't alone, but her companion hadn't spoken yet. It was Guglielmo, who was holding an exact copy of Bianca's crown. They both were approaching the trio on the stage. Lucrezia had introduced them, having taken back her microphone, but none of the winners had noticed.  
  
"Now, by the power I hold as the head of this family and the host of this party, I crown you both, Lorenzo and Francesco, as Kings of Fashion." Lucrezia said solemnly like this coronation was the real deal.   
  
As soon as she finished saying those words, Bianca put the crown on his brother's head and Guglielmo to his. After that a couple of loud bangs were heard and the room was filled with snowflake-shaped confetti of different colours. All guests marveled at the magic cascade the ballroom had become. Their focus wasn't on the stage anymore. Realizing this little fact, Francesco looked at Lorenzo to ask him to make their retreat. Instead, he found Lorenzo looking at the confetti with a smile, the real one. It truly was a sight to see... What, Lorenzo? No! Of course, not. The confetti. Yes, the snowflake-shaped confetti.  
  
Francesco really needed to get out of the ballroom. There was something on it that was really affecting his clarity and thinking process. Maybe he had inhaled a colourful piece of paper that was floating around and it had reached his brain without him noticing. There had to be an explanation, but he wasn't willing to stay to find it. His uncle would be ashamed if he found him running away. However, Francesco reminded himself that he wasn't fleeing and that his uncle would never find out about this. Francesco was just going elsewhere less crowded to talk with Lorenzo as they had agreed.   
  
"Lorenzo, we should leave now," he whispered to the Medici. "There is no need for us to stay here."  
  
"Oh, right," Lorenzo answered startled like his thoughts had been interrupted. "Let's go."  
  
They exited the stage discretely. None of the other three people that were with them said anything about. It wasn't as if they hadn't noticed them leaving, they surely did. It was that each one thought it was better to let them do as they pleased, but each of them had reached that conclusion differently. Lucrezia thought that it was Lorenzo who wanted to show something to Francesco, because he had been very excited about the contest. She would have like to announce their victory once more and let them leave with a warm applause, but it was okay like this. She wouldn't deny his son the chance to celebrate with Francesco and she didn't want to further embarrass the younger Pazzi, dealing with Lorenzo was more than enough. However, Guglielmo thought that it was Francesco who wanted to abandon the stage. He knew his brother didn't like all this attention, so he would take the first chance he got to go back to a place where he could be in control of the situation. On the other hand, Bianca had a crazy idea on her mind. Those two were leaving to discuss something of importance. He had connected some events: Lorenzo's extreme cheerfulness the days prior to the contest, Francesco accepting to dance with Lorenzo and accepting to wear a double sweater with her bother, the fact that they had spent quite a while upstairs before the current party, their speeches just now and the fact that they were always gravitating each other in some way. Bianca had also noticed the lack of connection between Lorenzo and Francesco before their coronation, because of it she and Guglielmo decided not to approach them. Whatever had occurred between them, they had to talk about it. It would involve feelings and she knew how his brother-in-law hated talking about them. The better they sorted this out, the better. Also, only couples wore double ugly Christmas sweaters... And she and Guglielmo hadn't even worn one yet!  
  
Lorenzo and Francesco went to the terrace outside opening one of the big windowed doors. They went together, of course, but Lorenzo was the one who led them, whereas Francesco just looked around making sure no one, specially Giuliano, dared to follow them. It was chilly outside. The temperature contrast between the ballroom and the terrace didn't go unnoticed by any of the two men. Each breath they took ended up forming a little misty cloud that dissipated quickly. Neither complained, preferring to get away from the crowd and, finally, having some privacy. Lorenzo stopped under one of the various arches. It was located enough to the right to not be seen by most people inside, because the stage hid the last windows of the ballroom.  
  
"Here we won't be interrupted again. Do you want to talk about it now?" Lorenzo asked without pressuring Francesco to speak. "If you don't want to, we can stay here for a while."  
  
"It's quieter than inside at least," Francesco immediately said looking at the gardens spreading before them.  
  
"I knew you would prefer it," Lorenzo said with a hint of excitement that died as quickly as his words.  
  
They both fell in an uncomfortable silence. Both wanted to speak and talk, but neither knew how to start. Lorenzo didn't want to pressure Francesco, but he wanted to fix what he had done wrong, before the damage was too big. On the other hand, Francesco didn't know how to voice his annoyance, mostly because he didn't feel as strongly as before. The anger that he had felt towards Lorenzo wasn't there, not all at least. He had been furious, but somehow all that had disappeared. The behaviour of the guests still annoyed him, but he didn't know how to express it correctly.  
  
"Francesco..." Lorenzo said after a few minutes of silences. "I..."  
  
"No," Francesco said abruptly. "Don't say you are sorry. Don't ask me why you did wrong. Don't, because you didn't do anything, never did." This time he turned his gaze to face Lorenzo. "That bothered me, a lot, if I'm being honest. I was angry at you for not noticing it, not realizing what was going on. First, I thought you didn't mind. Then, I came to realize you didn't care. It infuriated me..."  
  
"Francesco, what are you talking about? What did I miss?" Lorenzo's concern was written in all over his face. He reached to touch Francesco's arm, but he pulled away immediately when he noticed what he was about to do. "Tell me, please."  
  
"See? This is what I meant. How can you be so blind to the gossip? The laughs? The mockery?" Francesco's tone was the indication of his irritation.  
  
"What?"   
  
"Your dear guests, Lorenzo. Your guests! They laugh, gossip and mock you, well us, behind your back! But you are incapable of seeing it!"  
  
"I'm sure there's an explanation..." Lorenzo tried to say, but Francesco interrupted him. The latter wouldn't stop until he was done talking.  
  
"It's simple, Lorenzo. They don't like me. They hate me. They always did, because of my uncle, because I'm a Pazzi. I do not belong here, not according to them. Their whispers have always been there. I've seen them from time to time. There's always someone talking, criticizing me for being alone, for speaking to you or your mother, for drinking, for not dancing, for breathing, for being here. They can tolerate my brother, because he is more sympathetic and kinder than me. I'm used to their murmurs. However, tonight has been the worst by far. Your so-called family friends won't hesitate to spread lies about you. They say that I tricked you into this," Francesco said pointing at the ugly sweater they were wearing, staring at the pattern so intensely as if he could erase it with his gaze. "ME? Can you believe it? I'd rather die, thanks." Francesco was too busy letting all the words out to notice how pained Lorenzo was by everything his friend was saying. Francesco had diverted his gaze gradually away from Lorenzo without noticing. "They also say that I'm friends with you because I want to steal your secrets. That our friendship is an utter sham. They think that I'm manipulating you, that I'm lying to everyone, because I can benefit from it..." Francesco stopped to inhale and exhale deeply, before continuing. "I was angry at you because it happened under your nose and you did nothing. I thought you did it on purpose. I really... I thought you..." Francesco never finished that sentence, changing what he wanted to say. "But, after a while somehow the fury towards you was gone. It wasn't there anymore. I realized that you didn't know that all your incessant questions were genuine, that you actually cared, because your concern was real. I was angry at the guests, not you, but my anger acted like a blindfold. I managed to understand how wrong I..."  
  
Francesco's words were left hanging in the air as a pair of arms embraced him tightly. Lorenzo had slipped away from their shared sweater at some point during Francesco's speech and was hugging him tightly. His chin rested on Francesco's shoulder, so his facial expressions were a mystery to the Pazzi.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Francesco. I honestly didn't know. I'm sorry. If I had known, I..." Lorenzo lamented.  
  
Lorenzo's arms enveloped him as if he could shelter Francesco from all the bad things happening to him. Francesco thought it was a very Medici thing to do, everything could be done if they were the ones who did it. However, this time Francesco didn't find it arrogant that Lorenzo thought he could solve all his problems. It was a sign that he cared. It was reassuring. It was nice. It felt good. It felt warm...  
  
"Francesco," Lorenzo said as he loosened his arms around him, but still hugging him, nonetheless. He wanted to say this looking at his face to convey that he meant it. "I swear that I'll show them how wrong they are. You belong here with me... and my family! You haven't tricked or manipulated anyone to be here. You are kind, gentle, and a good person. You care a lot, even if you don't want to admit it. I've seen it with my own eyes, Francesco. You are polite. You have a funny side and a sense of humor I wish more people could see. You are amazing and no one can change that. They can say whatever they want, but I won't change my mind. Ever. Anyone who can't see any of your qualities will be shown the door, they are welcome to leave if they only want to criticize." Lorenzo spoke with such intensity that it was hard not believing him. Francesco was speechless. "If they can't accept you, they have no place in my house."  
  
Francesco was overwhelmed by Lorenzo's words. His eyes told him that everything that he said was true, but inside them there were traces of regret. Lorenzo was blaming himself for not realizing what was happening behind his back. He thought he could somehow have prevented any of this from happening. Typical. However, Lorenzo's eyes had a special glint in them. Was it... adoration? It couldn't be, right? Suddenly, Francesco felt his neck and his cheeks burning hot. God. He was probably bright red. How embarrassing.  
  
"However, they are quite right in something. You have benefits from our friendship." Francesco's head was filled with doubts in a second. Lorenzo probably guessing this, he quickly added "You can enjoy my charming personality." Lorenzo smiled and winked at him to let him know he was joking, a faint touch of pink appearing on his cheeks.  
  
"Idiot..." Francesco muttered to himself almost inaudibly.   
  
When, he diverted his gaze to the floor. He noticed that he never returned the hug. His free arm was hanging to his side, whereas the other was trapped under the enormous sweater that was partly on the floor now. He was about to return it when a very recognizable voice shouted at them. Francesco groaned and cursed his luck. From all the people in the party, it had to be Giuliano who interrupted them.  
  
"Finally, I've found you! Everyone is looking for both of..." Then, the younger Medici brother realized the position the other two were in. "Ew! Don't tell me you run off to have sone alone time here." Francesco and Lorenzo jumped aside from each other as quickly as they could, their faces visibly flustered. "Oh God! I don't want to know. Don't tell me, please. I suspected something was going on between you. I mean the tension was there, but I didn't..."  
  
"Giuliano!" Lorenzo exclaimed trying to make his brother shut his mouth, his face was red. "Uh... Who is looking for us?"   
  
Giuliano knew his brother was trying to change the subject to anything but them and he was more than happy to change it. The least Giuliano knew about what was going on between his brother and Francesco, the better. He didn't want to know any details. He had seen enough. If his brother was happy, then so was he, but it didn't mean he wanted to discuss his love life. Nope.  
  
"Everyone?" Giuliano asked in return. "You both won the contest. People want to congratulate the Kings of Fashion and have a chance to talk about something pointless. You know, the usual stuff."  
  
"Great..." Francesco groaned.  
  
"We don't have to go, if you don't want to," Lorenzo whispered to Francesco. Just after he said that, he sneezed.  
  
"You'll catch a cold, if we stay outside. It would serve you right for showing off like that though," Francesco half joked and he began walking, Lorenzo following soon after.  
  
When they were about to cross the windowed door, Giuliano interrupted them once more forcing them stop in their tracks.  
  
"Stop right there!" Giuliano exclaimed a few steps behind Francesco and Lorenzo. "I have been waiting all night for this! I placed several of them inside the ballroom, but no one had stepped under one of them. Can you believe it?"  
  
"What are you babbling about?" Francesco asked a bit confused.   
  
  
He glanced at Lorenzo for some kind of answer, but he found the latter looking up. No. It couldn't be. Please, no. Couldn't his suffering end already?   
  
"Mistletoe, Francesco. Mistletoe," Giuliano added teasingly. "I don't have to explain the details of its meaning to you, right?"  
  
Of course that wretched plant was above them. Damn his luck. If he disliked Christmas, it was for stupid things like this, never-ending sources of embarrassment. Who invented this tradition of kissing under the mistletoe? Lorenzo probably knew it. No, Francesco was sure that Lorenzo knew it. If it was related to Christmas, he absolutely knew it. God... He had to kiss Lorenzo while Giuliano watched. Why was he even here?!  
  
"Why are you still here? Don't have anywhere else to be? With Simonetta, for example." His presence annoyed Francesco a lot, but it wasn't the same feeling he had felt inside. This was different. "Despite complaining so much, you stay here to watch. Why?"  
  
"Well, it's simple. Someone must be the witness. How would I know you fulfilled your part otherwise?" Giuliano answered matter-of-factly. "Why do you ask? Do I make you nervous?" Giuliano teased in return.  
  
"Enough, both of you," Lorenzo said trying to ease the tension that was settling on around them. Then, he turned to Francesco to continue speaking. "We don't have to do it, if..."  
  
"Of course, you have to!" Giuliano interrupted once again like the annoying person he was. "Who are you and what have you done to my brother? Lorenzo would never break a Christmas tradition. Never."  
  
The men under the mistletoe turned to face each other and hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Lorenzo had kissed many others before, what was he waiting for? Why has Francesco waiting too? Lorenzo was looking at him with his beautiful blue eyes. They had that spark again. His cheeks were pink from the cold. He was lightly biting his lip, unsure.  
  
"Are you sure?" Lorenzo asked him softly.  
  
Despite Francesco nodding, it took a few moments for them to move closer to each other. It was an extremely slow dance, but both hearts were racing, beating the faster than in any competition. With each little step, the warmth increased. It felt reassuring in the cold weather. It felt natural. Francesco couldn't take his eyes away from Lorenzo's. They held the sky and the ocean inside. They were calm and shining like never before. They recited Lorenzo's poetry directly to his heart. They told him things he hadn't believed. They were getting closer and closer, engulfing him like a little ship in a storm. Francesco wouldn't complain though. This was calm and soothing, like a lullaby sung by the waves on the shore.   
  
When he felt their breaths against each other, he didn't back away. His heart was drumming against his chest, but all he could feel was serenity. They were mere inches away. Closing the gap was the last thing missing. Francesco slowly closed his eyes in anticipation. However, what he expected never came. In its place, a burning sensation on his forehead was all he got. Lorenzo had planted a kiss there. He hadn't dared to kiss him on the lips. Francesco hadn't either. In fact, he hadn't done anything but wait. Why? And why was he disappointed? What exactly had he expected? Why hadn't he used his wish to get out of this situation?  
  
"BOOO! BORING!" Giuliano exclaimed breaking the bubble Francesco and Lorenzo had created for themselves. "That doesn't count though."  
  
"Why not? It's a kiss," Lorenzo protested in return.  
  
"Not on the lips!"  
  
The brothers began discussing about the tradition of the mistletoe and what was considered legal or not. However, Francesco wasn't paying attention to any of it. He was too busy figuring out what had happened. Confusion was all that Francesco was feeling in that moment. He had the opportunity to get out of this situation, the golden ticket, his wish, but he hadn't used it. He could have escaped this hellish party, but he hadn't used it either, claiming he was a man of word, which he was. He had been angry at the guests of party, for not being able to see who he really was. He had been angry at Lorenzo, because he thought he was like his so-called friends, but he wasn't.  
  
In fact, he genuinely hadn't seen it. He hadn't dismissed it on purpose like Francesco's dark thoughts had suggested. Even Lorenzo had apologized for being oblivious to the whispers and had promised him he would try to fix it, despite not being his fault. Then he had hugged him so tightly. Why had he been angry at Lorenzo if Francesco deep down knew it wasn't like him to manipulate people like that? Why had he been so angry, but then it disappeared mysteriously. The idea of Lorenzo manipulating him hurt him that bad or was the fact that people were spreading lies about them? Then, they almost kissed inf front of Giuliano by that stupid tradition of the mistletoe, but they didn't. Lorenzo had kissed him on the forehead. Had he expected more? Had he expected a kiss on the lips? Why did he close his eyes then? Everything was ridiculous and too complicated. He had felt so calm a few moments ago, now he didn't even know what he was feeling anymore. He was a mess. The burning sensation on his forehead with the shape of Lorenzo's lips wasn't helping either. It distracted him from thinking straight or having a coherent train of thought. He needed a moment to think and reevaluate.  
  
"I'm not feeling well. I'm leaving," Francesco said making his way to the gardens to go to the garage. "I'll see you both tomorrow."  
  
He turned his back to the Medici brothers, ignoring any form of concern from Lorenzo or any word that emanated from Giuliano's mouth. He needed the clarity of his own solitude to sort whatever he was feeling.


	5. Christmas Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone I'm back!! I can't believe we are at the end of this story and just in time for the holidays!  
> Writer's block hit me pretty hard that's why it took me forever to update. At least, I'm offering a long chapter as compensation.  
> I hope you enjoy it! <3

Francesco had trouble sleeping that night. He had been thinking a lot, trying to make sense of the things that had happened and those that hadn't. He had listed what he had done step by step and tried to figure out what lead to the absolute confusion he was experiencing. He had felt angry, irritated, then warm and welcome. He started having ridiculous thoughts he wasn't aware of. Then, everything was too much and he left without looking back. He had replayed the whole party in his head almost all night, but it was almost in vain. He knew whatever was happening to him had to do with Lorenzo. He was the cause of almost all his problems. It was in Lorenzo's nature, he couldn't help it. If Francesco had a headache, it was Lorenzo's fault, almost 100% of the times. The reason why it was him this time, however escaped Francesco. Lorenzo had been his usual self at the party and even before that, so his behavior wasn't the cause. He was being his usual self-absorbed self when he's surrounded by people... Well, to be fair, that was what caused Francesco's annoyance at first, but then he explained himself and apologized. Lorenzo felt truly sorry and hugged him. Then, what was the source of all this confusion? Blaming Giuliano would be too easy and he had nothing to do with it. He was only interrupting them. Interrupting what exactly? Friends could hug, right? He never did, but Lorenzo is a more physical person than him and he hadn't pushed him away... He wasn't angry anymore at that point... Why? Was because of Lorenzo's apology? Then, he kissed him... On the forehead. Not on the lips, even though he expected that... Why had he been disappointed? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore inside his head. That was why he left, abruptly and dramatically. However, he couldn't keep the kiss out of his mind. It clearly meant nothing. It was obvious. Then, why was Francesco's forehead still burning?! Why was that sensation keeping him from having a coherent train of thought?! Damn you, Lorenzo!

At some point, after going over everything that happened outside the party five times, Francesco fell asleep thinking of Lorenzo's lips on his forehead. Luckily for him and his embarrassment, he didn't remember it in the morning. When his casually delayed alarm rung, he found himself half hugging his pillow for some reason. He usually never woke up that late, but he hadn't been able to sleep, so it was understandable. Furthermore, he was only required to be at the Medici's household at lunchtime. He would arrive earlier out of courtesy. When Francesco managed to disentangle himself from the sheets, he looked himself at the mirror and saw his hair with horror in eyes. It had never been in such a state of disarray. He had been tossing and turning all night and all because of Lorenzo. He would need his best skills and hair gel to fix this mess.

Francesco arrived to the Medici household an hour before lunchtime. He grabbed the bags with gifts from his car's trunk and entered the house. Francesco's gifts were always spot on, even for Giuliano. It was thought that gifting something to the Medici that they didn't already have was almost impossible, but Francesco was there to prove these people wrong. If you listened to this crazy family, you could guess what they wanted or needed. This year Francesco was gifting to Bianca and Guglielmo a two-day vacation to the mountains. They wanted and, according to them, needed some time for themselves away from everything. Also, Bianca had mentioned wanting to see the sunset over the mountain lakes. Making Bianca happy was the best gift he could give to his brother so, Guglielmo was set too. Giuliano was getting a new pair of designer shoes that he had been talking about during all summer according to Lorenzo. Francesco's present to Lucrezia was something special. He would be giving her a new dress for special occasions, of course, in her favorite color, because she mentioned she wanted to impress everyone, but she was afraid she would be picking the same style over and over. So, Francesco chose for her. He was pretty sure he would like it, but what he knew she would like even more was his second "present". Francesco would be wearing the sweater she had gifted him the first Christmas after they welcomed him back to the family. He had refused to wear it then, saying it was too embarrassing. He had liked it. It was his color, a deep and dark green. It was warm, but it wasn't too thick, and formal, but casual at the same time. He had kept it in his wardrobe and never wore it. So, he figured Lucrezia would like it, if he did. It would mean he accepted the Medici as part of his family. Maybe it was a bit too much, considering how he had reacted the previous night, but he had chosen all his gifts carefully and anticipated. The only one left was Lorenzo. He was always the easiest one, but at the same time the most difficult.

Lorenzo was interested in wide range of subjects and had several hobbies, which meant that he liked almost everything, but at the same time he already possessed almost every possible gift one could think of. Perks of being born in one of the richest families in Florence, Francesco guessed. However, what Lorenzo visibly enjoyed the most was poetry, art and, of course, Christmas. Francesco wouldn't gift him anything related to Christmas. It wasn't happening, not ever. Lorenzo already got enough Christmas out of him to last, at least, three years. In the case Francesco went mad and gave him something related to the festivities, Lorenzo would probably go insane and had it with him all year long. Francesco's worst nightmare: everlasting Christmas. The younger Pazzi was sure it would happen. He had no proof, but he had no doubts either. Christmas was supposed to be celebrated only on December and on a few days of January, during those dates only. So, Francesco opted for a dedicated book from Lorenzo's favorite poetry author. He cashed in a couple favors in order to get it before its release date and dedicated exclusively to Lorenzo. Francesco also had in mind gifting him a piece of art, like a painting or a small sculpture, but both options were way out of his budget and that was saying something. So, knowing the book hadn't been out for the general public yet, it was almost impossible that Lorenzo had it. Almost, because we were talking about Lorenzo de Medici. Nothing was too difficult or too impossible for him. However, Francesco was willing to go with this gift because he had to go the extra mile to get it. Lorenzo wouldn't have it and he would probably shed a tear when he saw it. Francesco could picture what would happen next effortlessly. Lorenzo would be so enthusiastic about it that his beautiful blue eyes would shine like diamonds. Then, he would read a sonnet aloud, trying to impress everyone with his skills. He would be so stupidly proud of himself that no one would be able to erase his contagious smile from his pretty face... God, he was starting to sound like him. All the Christmas stuff was getting on his brain.

Good thing he could just leave the gifts under the giant over-decorated Christmas tree and go warm up his hands near the fireplace. Of course, the fireplace was decorated too with socks for each one of the guests, including him. His sock was dark green with his name embroidered in brown and it had candy, but it also had sweet coal in it, Giuliano's fault most probably. The one next to it had red and brown stripes with blue letters that said Lorenzo. Francesco knew that these socks were custom made according to Lucrezia's instructions. Every color in them had a reason, for example, Bianca's was red, because that was the color of her wedding dress, which had been his grandmother's. Another example was that everyone's name matched their eye color. Lucrezia's sock was the most colorful of all, because she had a color that represented her and a different colored dot for each of her children and sons-in-law. Francesco guessed he was included in the latter too, because his favorite color a green circle was among the others. For a stranger, these socks seemed another simple decoration, but they had a lot meaning behind them that they could imagine. Lucrezia was a very thoughtful woman. She had always tried to make him feel at home and welcome, but yesterday at the party he had doubts. He had doubted her intentions... All because of Lorenzo's fault. He deserved some of Francesco's sweet coal just for confusing him so much and for not letting him sleep that night. So, he trespassed three pieces from his sock to Lorenzo's. Much better. Now, Francesco only had one which he totally deserved for the dramatic exit at the Christmas' Eve party and... Succumbing to his uncle's brainwashing ideas... It seemed Jacopo would always appear to suck the good things out of his life...

"Francesco, good thing you are here. Can you come to the kitchen and help me with a couple of things?"

It was Lucrezia who requested his aid. She probably was supervising that every course was savory enough and had the desired consistency. If Francesco was being honest, he liked that Lucrezia had picked up the habit of cooking the whole meal for them, because he knew he couldn't trust any of her children with the kitchen. They weren't as bad as if they could burn down the whole building, but Francesco wasn't going to risk it. The last time the Medici siblings tried to surprise their mother with home baked cookies, the kitchen had been transformed into a war zone. It had been horrible. Guglielmo would be the perfect choice to be Lucrezia's kitchen helper, but she would refuse.

"Yes, of course. What do you need"? Francesco answered when he arrived to the kitchen. Lucrezia was by the stove and was surrounded by bowls and dishes full of food. She had an apron on and was stirring the contents of a pot.

"Can you tell me if the soup has enough salt? I'm trying to achieve something and a second opinion never hurts," she said as she moved closer a wooden spoon full of liquid to Francesco. "I was going to ask Lorenzo, but I don't know where he went."

"It's delicious and really tasty," Francesco said savoring every drop of the soup.

"I'm glad to hear it. Soup seems such a simple dish, but getting it right is a mastery I'm trying to acquire." Lucrezia had a glint in her eyes that reminded Francesco of Lorenzo. When he had his mind set on something, his blue eyes had a special gleam on them that told everyone he was going to achieve it. "Francesco, dear, are you feeling better now?" That made Francesco snap out of wherever his mind had went seconds before. "Lorenzo told me that yesterday you had to leave because you were unwell."

Oh, not that topic again. He wouldn't be able to escape it, would he? At least, his lie was believed to be true, which was a relief.

"I feel much better now, but it took me forever to fall asleep." Why had he said that last part?

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me for it. Also, the soup will do you well. It's Contesina's recipe," Lucrezia added with a smile that would convince anyone that the pot full of soup was the best medicine in the world.

"Thank you. Do you need my assistance in anything else?"

"Well, yes. If you could put this on the table you'd do me a favor," Lucrezia commented as she handed him a cheese platter that also had a handful of grapes. 

"Of course," Francesco replied and turned his back to Lucrezia to go to the dining room.

"Francesco, one more thing." Lucrezia's voice echoed when he was by the door frame. "It makes me very happy that you decided to wear the sweater that I gave you."

Francesco didn't need to turn his head to know that Lucrezia was moved by his little gesture. He knew she would be. He had chosen to wear it for that exact reason. What he hadn't expected was Lucrezia actually saying it to him. It felt nice. Even if it was just a simple thing, the fact that someone appreciated it made it worth it. 

After a while and little by little, the remaining guests arrived at the house. Guglielmo, Bianca and Giuliano were having a boring conversation on the sofa, which somewhat included Francesco even if he wasn't talking much. He didn't care about Christmas' specials or what dress would any famous person he didn't care about wear to the Italian's Christmas Ball. Francesco had other things to worry about. On the other hand, Lucrezia was still in the kitchen supervising for the tenth time that everything was perfect. However, Lorenzo was nowhere to be found, despite having arrived the first. Where was he? Was he avoiding Francesco because of what happened in the party? No, he wouldn't, right? Then, what was keeping him from being here with the rest of them?

"I'm going to tell Lorenzo we are about to have lunch," Francesco said as he rose from the armchair. Finally, he had an excuse to be free from that pointless conversation.

"Thank you, Francesco." Lucrezia thanked him from the kitchen. "I was about to do it myself, but I'm still busy here. The last time I saw him he went upstairs and he hasn't come down yet."

Lorenzo had probably had lost track of time, the idiot. It wasn't something unusual in him, but it was when Christmas' stuff was involved.

"I'll go upstairs, then. Thank you." With that Francesco was about to leave, when Giuliano interrupted him.

"Yeah, Francesco. Go find him," the younger Medici teased him moving his eyebrows suggestively. 

Of course, Giuliano would be a little shit about it. No surprise there. He only existed to annoy him. So, Francesco didn't bother to give him a reply. Stupid, Giuliano. Why did he have to be there yesterday? Maybe if he hadn't been there, Lorenzo would have... He shook his head, before any pink could appear on his cheeks and left as fast as he could. This kind of interactions happened often between Giuliano and him, so luckily it wouldn't trigger any unwanted questions from Bianca or Guglielmo. 

Francesco went upstairs as Lucrezia had told him. The corridor was empty and quiet. Francesco went to Lorenzo's room. He no longer lived there, but it was still his room. He knocked on the door, but he received no answer. Francesco entered the room anyway, thinking Lorenzo would be too self-absorbed on what he was doing to notice any sound. Well, he was disappointed. Lorenzo wasn't there. In fact, it seemed like if he hadn't been there at all. The bed was perfectly made and there wasn't any piece of clothing lying around or anything on his desk. Weird. Where was he? Something over the table caught Francesco's attention though. There was a cork panel with pictures on it. He had never seen it before, so he approached it out of curiosity. They were Lorenzo's happiest memories: his graduation, Bianca's wedding, moments with his family, others with his friends... There was a selfie of Lorenzo and Francesco of the day they went skiing with the family, another picture of the previous Christmas where Francesco was smiling at something Lorenzo said and another one of last year's caroloke. Lorenzo had his arm around his neck in a friendly gesture whereas with the other grabbed the microphone. Giuliano was also there doing the same to Sandro. Lorenzo's fond memories... Then, Francesco realized that he had been part of almost all of them. Francesco was a vital part of Lorenzo's life. He couldn't fight the reddening of his cheeks or the weird feeling on his stomach. Francesco was sure Lorenzo would hang the picture of last night's joint victory. Oh. Last night. The disaster. Francesco was so important to Lorenzo, but he hadn't known and he had the guts to doubt the Medici's intentions last night. The fuzzy warm sensation he felt on the stomach quickly plummeted to his feet. He had been an idiot, but Lorenzo had been an idiot too. He could have told him that he was important to him, so Francesco wouldn't have succumbed to his doubts and fears. The way Jacopo was able to manipulate him without being there scared him. Francesco knew the Medici cared about him. They had done nothing to say otherwise. Yet, he had doubted them. He had doubted Lorenzo. Lorenzo who deemed him an essential part of his life. How had he felt when he left? Had he felt betrayed? They hadn't talked about it and it was affecting him more than he thought it would. Then, Francesco realized that Lorenzo had made his way into his life and he couldn't fathom living without him again. Not having used his wish to humiliate him had been the proof that Francesco had a heart, that he cared more about Lorenzo than he admitted to himself, that he...

"Francesco?! What are you doing here?" The voice belonged to the man Francesco had been looking for, but didn't want to meet after his world started crashing down. It was no other than Lorenzo de Medici himself. Lady Luck hated Francesco and he was sure of it.

"I have come to tell you that we are about to have lunch and that everyone is waiting for you," Francesco explained to Lorenzo with a composure that surprised him.

"Oh... Oh! It's so late already?!" Lorenzo seemed alarmed and began mumbling incoherently. "Oh my god. Time went by so fast I didn't notice..."

"What were you doing here anyway?" Francesco asked trying to get Lorenzo back to his usual self. It was weird seeing him like this.

"I... Uhhh... I cannot tell you!" Lorenzo said still a bit nervous and with a faint taint of pink on his cheeks. His pose and behavior were strange. Lorenzo gesticulated a lot when he talked, but he wasn't doing that now. Then, Francesco realized that he was hiding something behind his back. "Well, I could ask you the same thing, Francesco. What were you doing snooping around my room?" Lorenzo had caught him staring at his stomach. Great.

"I told you. I was looking for you," Francesco repeated again.

"But, it doesn't explain why are you at my desk. If you saw I wasn't here, you should have left. Yet you remained here. Why?" Good question. Very good question. Francesco wasn't about to tell him about his little crisis mere minutes ago, so he did what he did best: snarky remarks.

"Why are you so interested? Are you hiding something, Lorenzo?" Francesco teased Lorenzo with his usual half smirk on his face.

"Actually, yes." Okay. Francesco hadn't expected that. "So, if you would do me the favor of leaving, please. I will come down in five minutes." He hadn't expected that either.

"Okay. I'll see you downstairs, then." Francesco's face remained neutral as he exited the room, but he felt a dark pit inside his stomach. 

Francesco closed the door behind him and leaned on it for a moment. Of all he ways he had thought about how his first encounter with Lorenzo after the party would go, he hadn't expected him to throw him out of his room. Francesco has this sensation in his stomach because of it. He would have never expected Lorenzo to do that. Maybe this is what he had felt after Francesco made silly excuses and left the party. Was Lorenzo pursuing a revenge of some sort? Francesco shook his head. He had doubted the Medici before and he had been wrong. He wouldn't do it again. Lorenzo was probably upset and hiding something. The latter he was for sure, because Francesco had noticed it, but it wasn't his business. If Lorenzo wanted privacy, he would give it to him. Francesco was a man of his word, so he would leave. However, the knot on his stomach didn't disappear. It only tightened. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about their friendship... And Lorenzo.

Francesco went to the bathroom, before reuniting with the others downstairs. He washed his hands and splashed his face with water. He was wasting time in order to see if the feeling in his belly loosened, but it didn't. In his way to the stairs, he noticed the opened door to Piero's study. Nowadays, it was used by Lucrezia, but she always insisted the place was his. Francesco felt urge to close the door, but he dismissed it.

He didn't want to be caught lingering by Lorenzo. The Medici made it clear that he didn't want Francesco around. So, the more the younger Pazzi stayed on the second floor the more possibilities of Lorenzo emerging from his room. He wasn't going to risk upsetting him further. Francesco was just a guest and Lorenzo was his host. Well, technically it was Lucrezia, but in the end the feeling was the same. The house was theirs, not Francesco's.

Lorenzo joined the rest of his family and the two Pazzi brothers ten minutes after he told Francesco to leave him alone. During that lapse of time, Francesco had to suffer several eyebrow movements and knowingly looks from Giuliano. It was torture. To add more to his embarrassment, Lucrezia asked him if he was feeling unwell, because he seemed troubled. He gave her the best excuse he had: the knot on his stomach. Immediately, Lucrezia went to search for some herbal infusion to ease his pain. When she came back with a steaming mug for him, Lorenzo appeared with a few bags, presumably full of presents. While he left them there, Bianca instructed everyone to sit on the table, now that everyone was present.

Of course Francesco would have to sit next to Lorenzo. It was obvious that Lady Luck was laughing at him again. He wouldn't have minded if there wasn't this strange tension between them. Francesco would take sitting next to Lorenzo over sitting next to Giuliano every day of the year. No questions asked. Lorenzo usually was very Lorenzo, which meant he was a self-centered idiot, but Giuliano was blatantly insufferable. So, yeah, Lorenzo still was the only reasonable option, despite the current circumstances.

When everybody occupied their place, Lucrezia emerged from the kitchen with the soup. She poured it carefully on everyone's plates. She even served more to Francesco, because the day before he felt unwell. Lucrezia always cared for and was attentive to everyone. She had never cared that Francesco wasn't her son or part of her family, she had always treated him like it. At least, that was what Francesco had experienced since he resumed being part of the Medici life again and what little he recalled from when he was a kid. Francesco would never admit it out loud, but he appreciated the gesture. Guglielmo was the only one who had cared for him, except their parents. So, that someone worried for them and treated them like if they were their blood was something that Francesco had trouble getting used to.

The broth was delicious. Francesco had the opportunity to taste it beforehand, but it wasn't comparable. Lucrezia had perfected it to the maximum of her ability and it showed. Despite having more soup than the others, he ate spoonful after spoonful of the delicious golden liquid until there was nothing left. He heard Giuliano complaining about how not only his brother preferred Francesco over him, which made the younger Pazzi almost choke, but his mother too. Lorenzo stayed unusually silent too focused on his plate of broth, whereas Lucrezia explained why she served more soup to Francesco and promised to serve his son more roast chicken if that pleased him. Francesco observed Lorenzo carefully, noticing a faint trace of red coloring his cheeks, and took a mental note of his odd behavior. However, it disappeared halfway the second course. There, he began to talk his usual Christmas nonsense.

"The other day Poliziano told me the wildest thing. Did you know that there's a Christmas tradition that's called Shitting Log?" Lorenzo said very amused, his eyes shining like if he was a cartoon. Despite the complaints for the scatological turn of events, Lorenzo continued talking. "Don't look at me like that, it's true! Poliziano has a friend who celebrates Christmas with this tradition. It's called like that, but you only hit a log with a stick and it gives you presents. Isn't it very curious?"

"It is odd indeed, but I would prefer if we didn't discuss this kind of things when we are at the table, eating," Lucrezia intervened as a warning.

"I must agree with my brother here. This log thingy is very interesting. In fact, I suggest to adapt it for one next year's parties," Giuliano exclaimed excitedly.

"That's a fantastic idea, Giuliano!" Lorenzo agreed. This year's celebrations weren't over yet, but the Medici brothers were ready for the next ones much to Francesco's dismay.

"Did you know that in Sweden it's a goat who brings the presents on Christmas?" Bianca added changing the subject subtly to anything, but the weird custom of hitting a log.

Francesco thanked her internally. He wouldn't have been able to handle a whole conversation about the infamous piece of wood otherwise. That was why Bianca was his favorite Medici sibling after all. She was the most reasonable of the three. 

"Am I hearing goat themed party?" Giuliano half-joked again in hopes his brother would side with him in this nonsense.

"You bet you do!" Of course, Lorenzo didn't disappoint him.

Francesco mentally put his hand on his forehead. Why was he invited to these gatherings? If the Medici wanted to kill him out of secondhand embarrassment, they always did a great job at it. He was surrounded by idiots, but with that he only meant Lorenzo and Giuliano. Both Medici women and his brother were decent and respectable people, the other two not so much. How could they be laughing at such vulgar things? At the table, on top of that! Giuliano was an idiot beyond repair. There was no denying that. Lorenzo was an idiot too, but he had his moments. Francesco would never admit having that opinion or that thought, never. However, he found Lorenzo more than bearable in several occasions. In that precise moment, he didn't. It wasn't fair the way Lorenzo was laughing so carefree, as if nothing had happened upstairs. It wasn't fair, because it made Francesco's stomach churn in a way he didn't expect. It wasn't fair that his smile suited him so well. It wasn't fair that it made him sparkle as if he was the handsome Prince Charming...

"Francesco, aren't you opposing to any of this?" The voice of his brother brought him back to reality, ending his daydream completely. Guglielmo seemed a bit concerned.

"Whatever. I don't care," Francesco replied automatically. It was his response by default, so nobody would find it strange if he said that. However, Francesco hadn't even heard the original question in the first place.

Francesco was not paying attention to his surroundings. It wasn't usual for him, but lately he was more distracted than usual. The cause of that was no other than Lorenzo. Francesco Pazzi being distracted by Lorenzo de Medici. Ridiculous! Yet, it was the truth. Francesco wanted to figure out the reason why this kept happening to him, but he had no answer to his questions. He tried studying Lorenzo's expressions and gestures, but the only thing he did was stare at the Medici without processing anything. It was a problem. How was Francesco supposed to figure anything out if he couldn't study Lorenzo, the source of everything? There was another option left for Francesco and it was introspection, but he had tried thinking and analyzing whatever was going on with him all night and it was in vain. So, the only valid option was looking at Lorenzo and to notice anything suspicious. Yet, he was failing on that part too. Damn you, Lorenzo, and your entrancing face! 

There was something that bugged Francesco particularly. Despite damning and blaming Lorenzo, he couldn't stay mad at him for some reason. He couldn't be angry at him as he had been in the past. This behavior also happened the night before. He had always relied on anger and coldness as his main feelings. Why were those locked for Lorenzo? He could still feel anger towards Giuliano, thank God. Francesco thought about being actually nice to Giuliano, not polite, nice, and he felt like throwing up. Talking about his stomach, what was that knot he felt there? Why did it tighten and loosen depending on what Lorenzo felt, instead of how Francesco felt? It didn't make sense! What was he missing?

Without being aware of it, Francesco had finished eating the chicken and found himself being served a slice of a home-baked pandoro. The dessert smelled wonderful and looked even more delicious if possible. Lucrezia was an amazing cook and even a more amazing woman. How she managed to prepare everything on time, despite having a massive party the night before, was a mystery to everybody. However, nobody questioned how it was possible. It just happened and everyone was happy about it. Although Francesco was glad to have pandoro as dessert, he couldn't help the memories coming back like flashes to his brain. His parents used to bake a panettone to eat after lunch on Christmas Day. Francesco and Guglielmo helped them too. Guglielmo, being the oldest son, was in charge of mixing the ingredients whereas Francesco measured the ingredients and added them to the bowl. It was one of the Pazzi family traditions, before Jacopo took them away. The preparation of this Christmas cake was one of the most cherished memories that Francesco had. He had been genuinely happy then. He had been surrounded by a family who loved him. He had almost forgotten what that felt like with his uncle...

Francesco was so absorbed in his own thoughts, that he didn't catch any of the several glances that Lorenzo threw at him. He seemed a bit worried, but Francesco was too lost in his mind to notice anything at all. Until he felt something warm on his tight. Luckily, he always had a magnificent composure, so he didn't jump at the touch. However, he got a bit startled. Immediately, his eyes went to the heat source, a hand. Then, his brown orbs followed up the arm until he met Lorenzo's face. The other quickly moved his hand away as if it was Francesco the one whose touch burnt. Lorenzo hadn’t said a word yet, so Francesco observed him waiting for an explanation to his behavior.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to startle you or anything." Well, he had. "It's just that you zoned out and you never do that." It had happened a few times, but only recently. "Are you sure you are okay?" Lorenzo whispered to him. However, before Francesco could answer, Lorenzo kept talking. "And, well, I'm sure you didn't take it personally, but in you did, I didn't mean to be rude or cold upstairs. It just that I was, you know..." Was Lorenzo nervous? Why? He was the one who made him leave...

"Do you mind sharing it with the rest of the table? Whispers at the table are forbidden, remember Lorenzo? Grandpa Cosimo always said doing it only showed lack of manners," Giuliano teased with a big grin on his face. The little shit always had to be there to annoy him. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? It wasn't that difficult for God's sake.

"I only asked if he was feeling okay," Lorenzo replied defending himself, almost all his nervousness gone. "I didn't want to cut or change the subject of the previous conversation. That's it." If someone saw through his lie, they didn't comment on it.

"Giuliano, let your brother alone for one second. He is worried about Francesco and it's understandable." Francesco faintly blushed when he heard Lucrezia's words. "However, Lorenzo, your brother is right as well. There are no secrets at the table, but I will let it slide this time. I don't want to embarrass Francesco any further." The latter nodded towards the Lucrezia in order to thank her.

Luckily for Francesco, the subject wasn't brought up again, so the rest of the lunch continued without any incident. He tried his best no to end up too absorbed in his own mind again, but his thoughts continued to drift towards Lorenzo. At least, this time around Francesco was a bit more aware of that fact than before. It almost didn't affect the end result, but it was better than nothing. That was what Francesco told himself and blamed Lorenzo again for being Lorenzo.

The bellies of all the guests were filled with plenty of delicious food, which meant it was the time to open the presents. Guglielmo and Bianca were taking the dishes to the kitchen, whereas Lucrezia rested in the armchair. She loved to see her children opening their Christmas presents, despite them not being kids anymore, and everyone knew the armchair was privileged in position, so it was hers and hers only. 

When the table was clean and without a trace of the lunch that had just occurred, Guglielmo and Bianca reunited with the rest of the Medici plus Francesco. Lorenzo, then, went to the pile of gifts and started giving one to everybody in the room. Lucrezia watched with a big smile on her face as everyone unwrapped theirs. Giuliano received the newest multiplayer videogame that was out of stock everywhere. He didn't hesitate to snap a picture and send it to Sandro. Bianca and Guglielmo's present was the trip that Francesco had organized for them. She was so excited that was already planning with his husband all they were going to do. Guglielmo had a big smile in his face and the most "heart-eyes" expression, using Giuliano's words, he had ever seen. Lorenzo was gifted a new stylish long jacket, which looked incredible on him if Francesco was being honest. It had been Bianca's or Lucrezia's idea. Francesco was sure of that. They were the only ones that knew what style meant. Lorenzo was twirling around to see how it fit and the fabric swayed with the movement. Lorenzo looked like a princess with a new dress. It was ridiculous, but at the same time he couldn't separate his eyes from the scene. Then, Francesco's eyes met the ocean blue, which only caused the Medici to smile wider. He had caught him staring and forgetting about his own present. Attempting to hide his faint blush, Francesco carefully opened the gift he had on his lap. It turned out to be a black satchel that would come in handy when carrying documentation for the bank. It was beautiful. Then, Lucrezia opened hers, which was an apron, cooking gloves and hat with the words "Cooking delicious food only" embroidered in it. She laughed softly and joked about needing it before lunch. 

From there on, everyone continued unwrapping gifts in the same order. When Lorenzo saw the signed poetry book, he was so moved that his eyes started to water. But, when he saw that it was dedicated to him, more than a couple tears ran down his cheeks. At first, Francesco was a bit worried, only a little, because Lorenzo had stopped moving since he unwrapped it. He was as still as a statue and he never did that. He was a like an overexcited child who couldn't be in the same position for more than a single second. But, Lorenzo was standing still, his face wet tears he didn't acknowledge, as if he was in his own bubble, completely indifferent to his surroundings. Francesco hadn't anticipated this reaction. Lorenzo was always prone to drama and exaggeration, yes, but this was something else. What was wrong? Did he not like it? Was he disappointed? Did Francesco make a mistake? Did he ruin it? Did he ruin Christmas Day for Lorenzo? 

Without realizing it, Francesco had walked through the living room and was standing next to Lorenzo. In order to make his friend come back to his senses, the younger Pazzi put his hand on his shoulder.

"What is wrong, Lorenzo? Did you not like your present?" Francesco asked unsure of the answer Lorenzo would give him.

"Uh... No... I..." Lorenzo stopped to wipe his tears with his sleeve. However, Francesco felt a the weight of a rock in his stomach when he heard the negative answer. "I need to go to the bathroom, sorry."

Lorenzo moved away, letting Francesco's hand slide off his shoulder and half hang absently in the air. But before leaving, Lorenzo pointed at the forgotten half-unwrapped present on Francesco's other hand.

"Open it. You will like it." After that, he left without waiting for a response from Francesco. 

If the circumstances had been different, Francesco would have joked about Lorenzo not having words. He loved teasing him about it. It was always funny, because Lorenzo never shut up. Never. Then, Lorenzo would laugh to hide the fact that he was embarrassed, but there would be no way to hide his blush. So, Francesco would know he had won, by looking at the shade of pink of his cheeks. He would probably smirk or smile knowingly as if saying "you cannot lie to me". However, the atmosphere had no room for jokes and secretly Francesco wished it had.

In order not to look like a fool, who was looking at the door that Lorenzo had just gone through, he followed the Medici's advice and resumed opening his present. It would be one of the few times that he followed Lorenzo's advice willingly. He even considered telling him if that cheered Lorenzo up. Then, Francesco saw a pair of dark green driving gloves, so dark that they could be perceived as black. They were beautiful and the kind of accessory that Francesco was missing. He tried them on almost immediately. They were so warm and very practical as well. He could close his hands and open them without the gloves constraining any of his movements. He would no longer suffer from the frozen hands syndrome as Lorenzo had teased him one time...

Oh.

Lorenzo...

It had been him...This gift came from him... Lorenzo remembered and noticed that Francesco's hands were always freezing, despite the Pazzi never complaining about it. He took into account that he loved driving and that he could wear them in the car. Lorenzo even made the effort to buy a pair that was his favorite color, but that they could combine with almost anything. Was that a hint of fashion sense making an sporadic appearance or was Lorenzo learning about color theory? Francesco couldn't hide a chuckle when thinking about the latter. It seemed impossible... However, the reality of the most recent events came crashing down on him. He had screwed up. He had ruined Christmas Day for Lorenzo, who loved Christmas to the moon and back. He had ruined everything....

Francesco found himself walking through the door following the path that Lorenzo had taken minutes ago. Inside of him there was a new found courage and resolution. He would go and apologize to Lorenzo for upsetting him. He would explain it only had been in his best intentions, which he thought the dedicated book would be of his liking. Francesco was willing to get Lorenzo another present if he desired. He would fix this. He would do anything to prevent Lorenzo from crying like that. This fact alarmed him. Was he, Francesco Pazzi, worrying about Lorenzo de Medici? He must have gone crazy without realizing. However, there was a part of him who didn't mind who they both were. That part of him knew Francesco cared, cared more deeply than he would admit even to himself. It was about Lorenzo after all...

Despite having a clear idea of what he wanted, Francesco froze in front of the bathroom door. The courage that had brought him here in the first place was nowhere to be found. He wanted to knock, but his hand wasn't moving. He wanted to call for Lorenzo, but his mouth wasn't cooperating. He felt as if his body had turned into stone. He wanted to make things right, to fix it. And yet he was incapable of making a simple gesture like knocking. Suddenly, the door opened, revealing an startled Lorenzo behind it.

"Francesco?" His eyes were trembling like the moon's reflection on the surface of a lake. He was fighting back tears. Francesco was aware of that fact and he felt like if he was getting punched in the stomach. "I... I didn't expect you to find you here."

The Pazzi couldn't muster any words. All he wanted to say had died in his tongue the moment he arrived. He could only stare and wait for Lorenzo to be angry at him. This time he would hate him for real. No imaginations needed. No influence of his uncle to blame this time. If he had ruined Christmas for Lorenzo, he... He would... He didn't want to think about it.

Francesco would accept any words the Medici would spill to him. No matter what they said and which tone he said them. He would accept them, even if he wasn't ready to. He would. However, they never came.

"Sorry... I got too emotional back there. I don't know what came over me. I didn't want to get you worried," Lorenzo explained smiling faintly. "I didn't expect it."

"What?!" It was the first word that Francesco managed to utter. "You... You are... not mad?"

"Mad? No way! Why?" Lorenzo looked at Francesco who looked at him with hope in his eyes. Then, he analyzed his whole reaction. "Oh... I see..." He blushed out of embarrassment. "I... I didn't expect it. I know the present is yours and even if you say tou don't care you are always listening and paying attention. Jeez, you are the best at giving gifts! It's almost enfuriating, but in a good way of course. Gosh, what I mean is that I love it. Those were happy tears! I got a signed copy for Christmas! Who can say that? Just me! I was so moved I couldn't speak! I'm sorry if that gave you the wrong impression... I didn't mean to worry you."

"I... I wasn't worried." Francesco lied and he knew Lorenzo had seen through his attempt of a lie. By realising this, a light shade of pink colored Francesco's cheeks. "I... I was just..."

"That's why you've come all the way here, because you weren't worried?" Lorenzo teased lightly, but he changed his tone immediatly after the silence coming from Francesco. "I knew it was yours!" A big wide smile appeared in the Medici's face.

Then, out of the blue, Francesco felt warmth all over him and how air escaped from his lungs. He panicked and tried to move, but je couldn't. The body of Lorenzo was blocking his movements. Well, Lorenzo was hugging him actually, but it took Francesco a few seconds more to register it. He would never get used to Lorenzo's physical forms of affection, but he could no longer deny that it felt nice. That was the reason he was able to stop being tense and relax a bit. Not that it reminded to the calm that he felt yesterday, nope.Lorenzo's chin was resting on the Pazzi's shoulder, his mouth very close to his ear. Francesco could feel and hear every breath the other took. They were steady and calm, easy to follow, grounding. Soon and unbeknown to him, Francesco had matched his own rythm to Lorenzo's inhales and exhales. Waves of tranquility and serenity emanated from Lorenzo's body heat. It was soothing and anchored him in that place. Francesco returned the hug, wanting to embrace that sensation. His hands rested on Lorenzo's back, keeping him from leaving.

"Thank you, Francesco," Lorenzo finally spoke. "It means a lot to me that you got me this and, even dedicated to me, no less! You are incredible, Francesco. You are the best!" 

Francesco blushed at the words. Each one felt like a tingle in his heart and a tickle in his ear. Instinctively, Francesco buried his face deeper in Lorenzo's shoulder in order to hide his reddening face. 

"It's nothing," Francesco murmured against his friends' clavicle "I'm glad that you like it. I really am." The last part was almost inaudible, because he had brought Lorenzo closer to him in order to avoid the other man noticing that his face was a tomato from just a compliment. 

"Francesco... You..." A sentence barely formed died in the Medici's lips. There was silence and, then, a question that caught Francesco by surprise. "Are you wearing gloves?"

"Yes." Those beautiful and comfy driving gloves. "Why?" That was all the younger Pazzi said.

"Because I don't feel like I'm being hugged by an iceberg, so something must be preventing your hands from freezing my back." Oh, touché. Francesco had forgotten about the gloves almost completely. They were really comfortable and useful, if he took Lorenzo's word as some kind of proof. "I'm glad you like them too." That was just a simple sentence, but it conveyed more than it let on. Lorenzo inhaled deeply before talking again. Francesco was too aware of the movement of Lorenzo's chest against his own, feeling the warmth seeping through. "I have another thing for you." Then, the comforting contact was gone. Lorenzo had ended the hug, but he remained to a very close distance anyway. "It's upstairs, though. I hope you don't mind leaving my family to his things. We will come back in a few minutes."

"Of course." What could Lorenzo have prepared for him? And, most importantly, why? "I'll follow you." 

Lorenzo led them to his room, again. Francesco's heart was beating in anticipation, which didn't usually happen to him, but he was curious about what the Medici had planned. Lorenzo grabbed a shiny blue bag with a white bow on it and gave it to Francesco. When Francesco went to retrieve it, he brushed his gloved fingers against Lorenzo's. Being too aware of that fact, Francesco's blush appeared again. He didn't need to look at his friend's face to know that he was smiling, his eyes shining like stars in the night sky and waiting for him to open his surprise. 

Francesco sat on Lorenzo's bed and began untying the delicate bow, all under Lorenzo's expectant gaze. Inside the bag, there was a rectangular present, which Francesco began unwrapping carefully. When he freed his gift from all the paper surround it, he was even more curious than before. It looked like a photo album. Francesco raised his gaze towards Lorenzo as if asking for permission to open it. He was met by a look in Lorenzo's face that he couldn't describe accurately. It was warm, attentive, shining, beautiful... It was matched by his trademark smile, which could be featured in a dentist ad, so white and perfect. If Francesco hadn't been so curious about the insides of the photo album, he would have gotten lost in the starry sky of Lorenzo's blue orbs. The rainy clouds had vanished completely and the sight was breathtaking.

Francesco opened the album to find pictures of him through the years. He had already seen a couple of them pinned over Lorenzo's desk, but the vast majority were new to him. There were some pictures of the past Christmas' festivities, some of Bianca's and Guglielmo's wedding, the day the Pazzi and the Medici bank signed their most imporant accord, the day he became CEO of the bank, one day he and Guglielmo went to the mountain to hike, Christmas' celebrations when he was a kid... In the latter, his family was there and also the Medici. The children played with some toys whereas the parents talked. There was another were there was a snowball fight, Lorenzo and Francesco versus Guglielmo and Bianca. Giuliano must have been very small, if he wasn't present in the showdown. There was picture another of both families building snowmen. There was another were all the children were sleeping in the sofa clearly exhausted of playing, Lorenzo was holding Francesco's hand as both slept. It was such an endearing sight to see that a familiar warmth nested inside Francesco's chest filling it completely. Every single picture was a reminder that he was loved and that he had a second family who cared about him deeply. There were no manipulations, no trace of his uncle, only good memories. 

"Do you remember about this one?" Lorenzo had taken a seat next to Francesco on the bed, without the latter noticing. His finger pointed at a picture of Bianca putting a band aid on Francesco's knee. Lorenzo was standing nearby, apparently unharmed, with a worried look on his face.

"Of course, I remember. That day you decided that petting Orsini's fat cat was a good idea, but it turned out that it wasn't," Francesco explained matter-of-factly. He had been the one to tell Lorenzo that, but he had refused to change his mind, as usual. In the end, in an attempt to escape Lorenzo's affections, the cat jumped and scratched Francesco's knee as a result. It hadn't been anything serious, but it itched for a few days. "As usual," he added teasingly.

"Hey! I have good ideas!" Lorenzo replied adding a bit of the fake drama he liked. "We got to see their fountains. I recall you liked them a lot back then!" It was true. In fact, Francesco still liked them. They were classy and sophisticated. They told everyone that the Orsini's had taste in outside decorations and a lot of money too but it wasn't as if Lorenzo or Francesco were poor to begin with. "What about this one?" Lorenzo said as he pointed to another photograph.

"Oh, God. Are you trying to embarrass me?" Lorenzo was referring to a picture of Francesco and Giuliano as kids wearing a two-person shirt that read "this is our get along shirt, both visibly annoyed with one another. “I refuse to acknowledge that it ever happened."

"C'mon, it was a fruitful bonding experience." Lorenzo was laughing softly, because he knew it hadn't been in the slightest.

Francesco turned the page in order to avoid being teased any further, but it didn't stop there though. However, Francesco never felt like Lorenzo was mocking him. He was just being friendly and trying to ease the tension that had ben surrounding them. The more pictures Francesco looked, the more he was convinced that Lorenzo had collected all of them to prove to him that all the doubts he had last night were unfounded, that the Medici cared about him, that Lorenzo himself did care about him. He wanted to show him that he had no reason to feel like a they were just being for show, that he didn't have to follow his uncle's sayings of doubting every word that came out of the Medici's mouths, that he could open himself to them, that the Medici could be their family too. In fact, by looking at all the pictures Francesco realized that they had always been like his family in a way or another. 

Absorbed in his own thoughts, Francesco turned another page and traced absently the amplifies picture in it. It was bigger than the ones before it, which meant it was special. Then, his fingers touched something very warm. The sudden contact made Francesco snap out of his own conclusions, when he realized that his fingers and Lorenzo's were touching each other. But, none of them backed away immediately. Francesco raised his gaze from the album to Lorenzo, just to find him looking at him already.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." Lorenzo apologized as he moved away his hand, placing it on his lap. "I was going to ask about this one, you know? You look very happy in it. A genuine smile from Francesco Pazzi is very difficult to earn, so it must have been very special to you."

Francesco looked back at the photograph, this time taking in its contents. The picture belonged to the Pazzi's tradition of baking panettone. One of Francesco's fondest memories. He could see the photograph coming alive in his mind: his mom preparing the oven, Guglielmo was already mixing the dough, Francesco was measuring the amount of raisins and his father was taking care of the sweetened fruit. At some point, his mom would begin singing a Christmas carol, soon to be joined by her husband and children. The sweet memory was enough to invite a single tear to run down Francesco's cheek. He missed his parents. They left their children too soon. 

"Francesco, are you alright?" Lorenzo asked turning to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I... I'm fine. It's just that I didn't expect to find this picture here,” Francesco began explaining. “It's one of my favo... My parents, Guglielmo and I used to bake a panettone on Christmas' Day. It was one of our traditions and one of my favorite moments of the holidays. We were all working together in the kitchen for hours... It seems silly and simple, but we were very happy. We truly were." Another tear escaped from Francesco's eyes.

A warm hand cupped his cheek and a thumb brushed away his tear. That action made Francesco turn his gaze to Lorenzo once again. This time Lorenzo was looking at him with an intensity Francesco couldn't describe, but made his heart pound in his chest. He was smiling sympathetically at Francesco. Lorenzo was infuriatingly handsome like this and Francesco cursed himself for thinking that. It wasn't the right moment... Or was it?

"Oh, Francesco... Thank you for sharing that sweet memory with me." His hand abandoned Francesco's face, warmth being replaced by cold air. "I made this photo album trying to prove to you that you can be happy here with us. What you said yesterday made me realize that you didn't see things the way I did. For that, I apologize again. I was too self-absorbed to see that you were struggling with a lot of things. Some of them I cannot comprehend. You were right when you said I was blind. I truly was. I was so convinced everything was fine that it didn't occur to me that you could be having doubts. What does that make me? An stupid idiot. That is why I wanted to make your doubts disappear, if you still had them. I don't mean for us to replace your family. I would never. They will always be with you. I just wanted you to know that you have a place here with us, that we care about you, that I..." Lorenzo paused for a second inhaling some air before continuing. "We love you no matter what and that we want you to be happy. You are very important to us," to me, "Francesco."

Francesco had guessed what Lorenzo was trying to do that, but hearing him not only confirm it, but also reassuring him about everything that had been troubling Francesco was a bit overwhelming. He felt bad for mistrusting the Medici and Lorenzo, but he hadn't known back then. He hadn't! He wasn't entirely at fault. He was also moved and touched by Lorenzo's words. Seeing all the pictures and knowing how everyone had worried about him not feeling well yesterday helped him to believe those words, not completely though. That would take time. Undoing years of his uncle's teachings couldn't be done with just a few sweet words and actions. He would need a while to get used to this new reality of sorts. Francesco was also relived to know that he belonged here. Deep down, he had wanted to, even if that meant endless Christmas party invitations. He had wished for a family who cared about him, without replacing the memory of his parents. He liked the Medici when he was a kid and somehow Jacopo hadn't managed to vanish that feeling completely. Oh, he was now very grateful for that. All in all, Francesco was thankful for the gift and for Lorenzo's words. However, he thought there was something more to that speech that what Lorenzo actually said. Maybe it was the intoxicating warmth inside him, his heart pounding on his chest wanting to free itself from that cage or the fact that he himself had realized something, that he should have a while ago.

"I want to use my wish," Francesco stated with an exteriorized calm that surprised him.

"What? Now?" Lorenzo inquired taken aback.

"Are you backing down from our deal? I fulfilled my part of the agreement. It's only fair that you fulfill yours," Francesco continued explaining. He wanted to Lorenzo to keep his word as he always claimed he did.

"Of course, I don't. I was just surprised it was now of all times. That's it," Lorenzo replied defending himself. "What do I have to do?"

"Answer my question truthfully." Francesco had been thinking about his question for a while. All night if he was being honest with himself. He had to ask. Maybe that way he would stop thinking about it. "Yesterday at the party, if Giuliano hadn't been there," Francesco suddenly found that his hands were the most interesting thing in world. "Would you have done it?" His question lingering in the air.

Francesco heard Lorenzo gulp, but his eyes stayed on his hands. "What do you mean, Francesco?" Was Lorenzo, the Magnificent, stalling?

"Don't be silly, you know what!" Francesco said his face completely red. "Would you have kissed me?!" It came out higher than he expected, but it wasn't his fault. Lorenzo was being absolutely ridiculous for not understanding what he wanted to say in the first place.

Lorenzo inhaled and answered with a simple, but certain word. "Yes." It was all he said.

Francesco incredulously turned his gaze to Lorenzo once more. There was no indication that he was lying in his voice or in his face, which had turned a curious shade of pink. He was looking at him anxiously, the sky held in his eyes. He probably wanted to ask the reason why he asked him that or beg him not to laugh. It almost made Francesco feel bad. Almost, because he felt like fireworks. He could not describe it further. It was just that: fireworks. He had the answer to his question, which also answered another question of his own. Had he wanted Lorenzo to kiss him? Yes, he had, but hadn't known it till this very moment. 

"Would you do it now?" The words had come out of Francesco's mouth without realizing.

"Are you serious?" Lorenzo asked raising an eyebrow. For a moment, Francesco's heart stopped. "That's a second wish! However, I can't say no to that." Lorenzo's smile was wide and warm, his perfect teeth all visible.

Mere seconds later, Lorenzo's lips were on Francesco's. His warmth quickly spreading through the latter's body. The soothing and calming sensation came back, but this time accompanied by a sense of belonging. It felt right. It felt like it should have been like this since forever. It felt like it was meant to be and maybe it was. Francesco deserved happiness and life was gifting the opportunity to taste it once again, so he wouldn't be the one who wasted it. Feeling bolder than before, Francesco guided his right hand to Lorenzo's hair and began playing with his curls. His other hand remained on his lap, securing the precious album. Lorenzo wasn't a person who denied physical contact, so, as soon as he felt Francesco's hand on him, he put one of his in the Pazzi's neck to deepen the kiss and the other one on his lower back. Lorenzo's touch burned, but in a good way. It was the warmth of being welcome, of being accepted, of belonging and fitting right in, of family. It was the feeling of being loved.

Francesco had received the best Christmas gift he could have asked for. He didn't know what was missing until now that he had it. He wouldn't be able to compensate for it, but maybe he could convince the Medici to bake a panettone all together for Santo Stefano...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know about the [Shitting Log](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ti%C3%B3_de_Nadal) (or Caga Tió in Catalan), it's the Christmas tradition of my home region. So, I can assure you it's a very real and serious thing!!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this story until the very end. I hope you liked it :)
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! <3


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